It’s like when Christmas decorations go up two months in advance—you just get sick of it by the time the holiday actually rolls around. With over a week’s worth of parties, Vegas has officially cornered the market on masquerading. My friend Heather and I spent a whole week sewing our costumes (think New York City club kids circa the ’90s from Party Monster) and headed to Devil’s Night XI, which had fewer people in attendance than we had hoped. (In contrast, subsequent stops at Obsession Afterhours at Penthouse and Seamless were packed.) But as we close the book on Halloweek for yet another year, one thing is for sure: If I see another person dressed like the Joker, or hear “Thriller” again, I’m going to puke candy corn.