FrankenPumpkin

Well?

I'm asking you.

What would you have done?

Hmmmmm?

What should I have done when I got coerced into entering the pumpkin carving contest at Jefe's party, even when I knew they'd smach the losing pumpkins at that end and I was entering last minute with no real time to do anything artistic except hack some crude eye and mouth holes and steal a staplegun from his garage and turn it into Frankenpumpkin that ALMOST won the competition but didn't and so I was about to be forced to smash my own precious creation that I had grown to love for his roughly shaped yet friendly smile, WHAT WAS I TO DO, really, but toss the car keys to David with a wink, pick my innocent-/ stupid-/ friendly-looking Frankenpumpkin up slowly as if we were about to comply with the pumpkin execution, and then bolt the opposite direction, bouncing with a heavy pumpkin and jump into my waiting car and yell, "Go, hit it, SAVE THE FRANKENPUMPKIN!" while my friends chased me?

Jefe, if you're reading this, YOU'LL NEVER TAKE US ALIVE! Oh, and it was a great party, had fun, sorry I didn't get to say goodbye.