Some direct-mail marketing genius got a list of everyone in the United States with a vagina and mailed them the "Chasing Fireflies" catalog. For anyone who hasn't seen it, this catalog is chock full of overpriced, poorly-made-in-a-sweatshop costumes for children and adults who love dressing like children.
I should know, because I once capitulated to incessant begging and ordered Paige a mermaid costume from "Chasing Fireflies," which should really be called "Losing Money." My reward/punishment is that I now open my mailbox at least once a week to one of their catalogs.
The Chasing Fireflies catalog is TV-esque in its ability to entrance you and your kids, but for different reasons. For them, it contains everything they've ever wanted (except puppies and ponies), especially for Halloween and their birthdays. And if they can't have it, they'll be traumatized and in therapy forever.
For you, it contains pictures of every adult you've ever feared becoming, coupled with the incongruous urge to piss away half a paycheck becoming exactly that. Specifically, I had to hide my own credit card and put the last issue of Chasing Fireflies in the recycling just to keep myself from ordering the costumes pictured below. What decent Stepford wife wouldn't buy $300 worth of matching skeleton costumes for her douchebag husband and two creepy-looking show-biz kids who might or might not be twins?
I mean, come on. Isn't this what every family does on Halloween?