Last Sunday I carved a pumpkin at a pumpkin carving party. This morning, I awoke to find that it had sunken inward so much that I wondered briefly if the cat had jumped on it repeatedly, like Garfield in a comic strip. Peering into it's enormous cyclopsian eye, I noted a dark, thick woolly fungus lining its entire interior. And a smell, oh, what a smell! So it was obviously time to get rid of it.
But the killer pumpkin had other ideas.
It came apart at my touch, so I just couldn't pick it up and toss it. So I got a plastic bag and tried to fold it into that, now dizzy with killer pumpkin mold, and the damn thing broke apart further and released a special watery gross liquid that dropped me to my knees. Keeling over, I managed to reach for a second plastic bag and scoop the remaining pumpkin guts into that, folding the whole mess into a giant toxic burrito. Mustering every last ounce of resolve I had (which wasn't much, because I hadn't had any caffeine yet) I managed to stagger outside with the pumpkin corpse in my arms and heave it into the dumpster out back as chilling rain poured upon my head.
Rest in peace, carved pumpkin, and haunt this place no more!
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