Since Z, started a "Best" I will start a "Worst." Mine was a SWAT Team member. I had to improvise a costume to go along with the cheap plastic mask from a dime store. To say it was terrible was understating it by quite a little bit. My mom picked it up, because I kept harranguing her for a Halloween costume. If I'd known what she was going to drag home, I would have stayed in that year. She knew I would choose something horrific, so she beat me to the punch, before I could scrounge up some devilish get-up. With all that information at your disposal, aren't you all wondering how come I wasn't subject to many, many years under a psychiatrist strict care when I reached adulthood? I know I do.