When Pumpkins Attack


I’m worried about Andy. You may remember him from his Californication reviews last year; sadly, there appears to be no other show on television with a high enough boobie count to pique his interest.

Or so I thought. I’ve discovered that his neglect of this website has coincided with his interest in gardening. As I rarely venture outside, this has gone largely unnoticed by me. Occasionally, he would wander off to a Bunnings hardware store, and come back with stuff that smelled of poo, and seeds, and rubber tubes. I guess I should have realised then that something horrible might be happening.

But recently, I’ve heard Andy sitting outside talking to them. Even from the safety of my room I can make out his insane ramblings. He seems to have an unhealthy affection for his creations, and spurns his once-friends for being “human vermin”. It’s just a harmless phase, I thought. There’s no danger. He’ll get through it. Click on the images below for the horrible story to unfold.

I can hear him stirring in his room. I can only assume the pumpkin has established some level of telepathic communication with its leader. This may be the last thing I ever write. I’ve barricaded the door, but I don’t think I can keep it out; it’s insidious. I can feel its psychic tendrils invading my mind. Can no one help me?


One Response to “When Pumpkins Attack”

  1. I’ve been on a writer’s strike.

    Does your life insurance cover strangulation by punpkins, Tom?