The deal: Over the course of my Halloween hunts, I found a few semi-interesting face paint kits.

They've been sitting in my storage bin of "things to write about," and as I glance at the calendar and realize how close we are to Halloween, it occurs to me that this may be a now-or-never scenario.

I didn't buy these dusty, hardened, ten-year-old makeup kits just to spend the next year wondering what could have been. Screw that. Today, they're going to battle it out.

And my face will be their arena.

In one corner, the Black Light FX Makeup Kit.

In the other, The Wolf Man Official Studio Quality Makeup Kit.

At this juncture, it's impossible to say who will emerge victorious. All I know is that Wolfie has an early strike against him, as there's no way a couple of everyday grease paint tubes constitutes as "studio quality."

These kits played for keeps. No punches pulled. It was a barbaric struggle that would've been even bloodier had I not set some ground rules:

1. Each kit was supplied exactly one half of my face.

2. Each kit would be judged on criteria to be made up as I went along.

I wished them luck. Then it was time to see who'd go first. It was aggravating to watch face paint kits attempt a coin toss. After several hours, Wolfie called heads and won.

The Wolf Man's kit was immediately startling. It isn't dated, but I distinctly recall that style of "Universal Monsters" packaging from like, fifteen years ago.

It's possible that they still use it, but seemed more probable that I was about to drench my face in fifteen-year-old grease paint.

Can this stuff go bad? I honestly don't know. Perhaps it's best that I remain in the dark.

Oh, remember that early strike over the "studio quality" thing? Cancel that. See those plastic fangs? I completely forgot about them after opening the package. They obviously suck, but it's unfair to judge a Wolf Man kit and disregard the fangs. I must award Wolf Man two bonus points for my error.

The directions on the package were infuriating. I can empathize with the bullshit need to present oneself as "wordy," but this was ridiculous. It was a guide on how to apply Wolf Man face paint, and they were using words like "divergent" and "substantiate." Minus half a point.

First, a base coat of brown. If this face paint really is fifteen-years-old, I'm going to seek out antique makeup more often. It goes on smooth. I felt like I was at a spa.

Maybe it's a color thing? Certain colors of face paint really are more easily applied than others. White and black are difficult. Red is a little easier. Maybe brown is just the "rookie special?"

After that, the fine touches: Some black around the eyes, and more on the tip of my nose. I grew concerned that my intended horrific appearance would be taken as a pretty cat.

Darting past its dissertation on the theory of relativity, I found a note on the directions to use some of this crud as hair paint. You're supposed to frost your hair with little glimmers of white and black, for that extra wolfosity. I tried and failed.

There's also a tube of what the package indicates as "blood" face paint. Only, the blood is absolutely 100% orange. If I'm a murderous monster who just got through eating someone with orange blood, it's likely that I've obtained some form of viral hepatitis. Gotta deduct a point for that.

Despite its flaws, I must admit, half of me really felt like the Wolf Man. I'd never dressed in any type of wolf/werewolf/wolfman costume before, but I'm starting to see the appeal. I felt like I could leap higher, and howl without coughing midway through. In general, my thumb was up.

But can the Wolf Man defeat '80s night at the worst club imaginable?

Black Light FX! Yes, through the power of black lighting, your face will glow brighter than the blood of whatever creature Wolf Man ate.

Don't have a black light? No problem, the kit comes with one!

MINUS THREE POINTS.

I'd be willing to forgive the fact that it's the tiniest black ever, but the thing doesn't work. And, best as I can tell, there's no way to change the batteries. What's the point of looking like a rabid Syracuse fan if I can't glow under black light?

Yeah, a three point deduction for that, but I'll give ‘em one back for the package design. It had to cost a fortune to shoot Ke$ha. Not sure who the other guy is, but if the package's bottom-left note is any indication, he might be named Lumiere Noire. Sounds stagey.

The application was brutal. I don't know if it was due to age or merely because glowing face paint works that way, but this was anything but smooth. It felt like I was smearing oatmeal on my face, assuming that there's a variety of oatmeal topped with small, jagged rocks.

Also, the stuff made me itch and burn. I wouldn't call it an allergic reaction, because there's a certain connotation to that term that might make you believe that someone else could wear it just fine. I seriously doubt that. No face would be safe.

Bright side, literally: In comparison to other face paints, this is EXTREMELY LOUD. It is alarmingly bright, with or without black light powers. I felt like Vision, back when he still dressed like the band leader of a colorblind school.

Fortunately, I had a spare black light. I don't know that it added a lot to the presentation, but the glow did seem somewhat enhanced. On the other hand, wouldn't any face paint shine like that if I held a light bulb two inches away from it?

I sat in silent contemplation for a moment, looking stupid, feeling stupid. Which of these face paint kits deserved the gold medal?

Was it a tough decision? No, not really. I was half a werewolf, and half orange. The answer is duh:

Congratulations, creators of 1973's Wolf Man Makeup Kit! You are victorious! You win over-the-Internet applause, which I can only illustrate by typing <><><><><>.

I admit that <><><><><> looks more like a bracelet.

Congratulations, creators of 1973's Wolf Man Makeup Kit! You win an over-the-Internet bracelet!

I wasn't sure where else to mention this, so let's try here.

On another Halloween hunt, I found a package of tattoos which can transform pumpkins into monsters with no cutting whatsoever. But I bet you expected me to say that.

Thing is, I kind of already did the whole tattoos-on-a-pumpkin thing this year.

Two Countdown entries about tattoos-on-pumpkins seemed like overkill. I'd never get the story cleared by my supervising editor. (Harley.)

But wait! We're in luck! Thanks to a series of really blurry photos on the package, I learned that these tattoos had a number of uses. Pumpkins, sure, but you could also put them on windows! And doors! And bed sheets!

Whoa, hold up. Bed sheets? You mean I can use them to make a Halloween costume? I have no quarrel with this!

The set came with three tattoos. I chose the blue guy. He was the coolest, and besides, the other two were twice as small, making them more appropriate disguises for fists than heads.

After sponging an alien tattoo onto a pillowcase (sorry, I wasn't sacrificing our bed sheets for this), it was time to see if I really stood a chance to win a cheap plastic novelty trophy on Halloween night.

Hey! Not bad!

Well, bad, but...not bad! If only I'd remembered to cut myself eyeholes.

The creature is too small for my head, but if I was younger and my head was tinier, it could work.

You know what I'm going to do for this multipurpose Halloween tattoo set?

I'm gonna give it an over-the-Internet bracelet.

<><><><><>