So of every possible option, you're picking the absolute worst. However, when you factor in the somewhat questionable magazines that your mom "just happened" to discover under your mattress while she was "dusting", you're under the very distinct impression that your continued stay of execution depends heavily on this evening. You make your apologies to your friends, kiss your social life, your credibility and any chance of holding the delectable Jamie's hand goodbye, and lead your stupid brother out the door.

"Don't forget to look both ways before you cross the street!" your mother bellows as you go down the sidewalk. You groan and pull the goggles low, hoping against hope that no one will recognize you.

It's pretty clear that your brother has already been praying at the altar of the sugar gods, if his appallingly sticky fingers and hamster-in-wheel energy level is anything to go by. Even four blocks of house-to-house sprinting doesn't make a dent.

You finally come to the end of the usual territory, but either people have been particularly stingy this year, or the squirt has been snacking on the run. His faux skull candy bucket isn't even halfway full. At the next crossroads, you have a decision to make. You can hit Sunny Street, yet another boring vanilla subdivision block, or you can turn onto Grimm Avenue, widely considered to be the wrong side of the tracks. You're sorely tempted, strongly suspecting that you could have a lot of fun with your pesky sugar-saturated sibling.

Click HERE for responsible child care and Sunny Street.

Click HERE for totally irresponsible Grimm Avenue.