Like any normal person I carved a pumpkin for Hallowe'en... together with Lance's it sat quietly glaring at those who approached my abode, warning them that they would have to face unspeakable horrors to obtain the candy within. After the date had passed, my lazy ass was too... well, lazy, to throw it out. They were both frozen and I thought they looked good alongside Carl, my zombie decoration, so I left them there.
To my shock and amazment I was informed by my sister that my pumpkin had been smashed out on the street last night. Lance's remained, lonely and wishing for his comrade's return... and wait he shall remain. Well, waited, till he was thrown out too. I'm assuming those damn punk kids took my pumpkin, or Brenda, I'm not sure who. Why just mine? The world may never know. So, in loving memory, I post this picture of Lance and me with our pumpkins. Rest in peace, little soldier, you're in a better place now. Here we are on Hallowe'en with our scary ass temp tattoos, I mean real cuts and scars, looking serious about how bad ass our pumpkins are. 
2 comments:
It really wasn't me, but now that I think about it, it makes me sad that it wasn't. I should've smashed that bitch all over the sidewalk... but I would have invited you. I also am greaving the loss of your pumpkin, and the fact that I didn't get to be its executioner.
Well, at least they took the ugly one. As you can see, my pumpkin's face was all scarred up already, I thought it looked cool, but this pic makes it look like someone curb stomped it.
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