Introduced once again by Flurnston Boils, who needs the work
Welcome back, fright-finders. In our first tale of the adorably macabre, an enchanted pumpkin gets his first taste of life — and his last — in a story I like to call: A Carvin’ of Witch’s.
With each delicate flick of the enchanted knife in her ancient bony fingers, the old witch carved a face into the plump round pumpkin. But the witch wasn’t merely adding eyes, nose and mouth — summoning the dark power of the ancient mystic arts, she was granting the pumpkin the spark of life itself.
And within a few moments, the once lifeless gourd blinked its hollow eyes in amazement. “I’m alive!” exclaimed Jack (for what else would one name a talking pumpkin?) “How grand to be in the land of the living! But why have you summoned me here?”
“Tonight is Halloween,” explained the old crone as she placed Jack onto the floor, “and you shall occupy an esteemed place in the evening’s festivities: greeting the little ones when they visit for their annual treat.” In a moment, Jack could hear the pitter-pat of little feet approaching. Children! he thought. What fun!
“Thank you for this wondrous gift, kind woman,” said Jack. “I owe my life to you — and to your magical skills at carving.” At that, the witch grinned and a mischievous twinkle came to her eye. “Actually,” she said, “the carving isn’t quite finished… yet.”
Be careful what you … witch for, Sharon H. (Flurnston photo: Marcello il mostro, by akk_rus, licensed under CC BY 2.0)
I had Jack’s reaction – Nooooooo! Now I’m empathizing with plants – I need to buck up – or lie down and pull the covers over my head.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that!
EEEEeeeeeeEEeeeeeeeeK!!! 😀 Mean witch!
The best part of jack o lanterns is the day after Halloween when you walk out the door to find a wiggling, fluffy tail sticking out of a fresh-chewed hole in the side, kick the pumpkin gently, and five squirrels launch out of it like a clown car.
BFB, if you can post a picture of this, I will love you forever!
Poor Flurnston. I can just imagine his agent urging him to get the old smoking jacket and silk cravat out of mothballs every Halloween, because the rest of the year has been a bit thin work-wise.
I only recently learned that rabbits like pumpkin (my cat does, but only canned) and I have yet to try some out on my buns. I’ll stick to the little sugar pumpkins, methinks.
Alice S, I do love the image of the smoking jacket and cravat on a pumpkin.