I'm with you, Uncle Dave. When I was a young Trickortreater dressed as Peter Pan or something equally cute, I said "trick or treat" as a matter of formality because that was customary. In my twilight trickortreating years, when I was 12 and 13 and dressed as a bum or Frankenstein, I relished the houses with their porch lights off as an opportunity to play a trick. I became a Jack O'Lantern smasher extraordinaire!
I remember returning late one Halloween, my hands reeking of smashed pumpkin, the fever of trickery still heavy upon me, only to find my Mom's jack o'lantern still shining on the front porch. Unable to control myself, I ran into the street in front of our house and dashed it on the asphalt. Oh, what remorse I felt the next day when my Mom, in a sweet injured voice, said "I gave out candy all night long, and somebody smashed my pumpkin."
I never told her the horrible truth.