Ladies and gentlemen, boys, girls, dogs, and upper marsupials… the story I’m about to tell you is so frightening that I can’t recommend it to the faint of heart, pregnant mothers, children under 46" tall, or the easily spooked. If you’re scared of bats, rats, or old hippies, then this tale is definitely not for you.
So turn the page if you think you’ve got the guts. Otherwise, BEWARE! Children, grab your mammas! Elderly, take your heart medication! Prepare yourselves for the ultimate in raw terror….
Don’t get scared yet! That’s not a monster. It’s just Grampa. And that goop in his hand? Those aren’t the brains of some poor kid….
Those are pumpkin guts. You see, it was Halloween night and Grampa was having his annual jack-o’-lantern carving contest. That’s me, Wiley, next to Grampa and over there, that’s Merle the cat torturing a june bug.
“WILEY, MY BOY!” said Grampa, pausing to put on a record. “The secret to an expertly carved pumpkin is to set the proper atmosphere. For tonight’s listening pleasure I have selected “The Sound of Mucus” followed by “Old MacDonald Had One Arm and Ninety-nine Buckets of Blood on the Wall.”
“Two of my favorites!” I replied.
Alas, it was my turn to gut the next victim.
“YUCK!” I grimaced as the stringy orange goop squished between my fingers.
“Kinda looks like one of your Gramma’s casseroles, huh?” Grampa joked.
“I HEARD THAT!” yelled Gramma from the kitchen. “There’ll be no Halloween snack treats for you if you keep that up!”
Gramma’s casseroles may taste like pumpkin innards, but her Halloween snack treats are par excellence (that’s French for “pretty darn good”). My favorite is her Screaming Skull popcorn balls with marshmallow brains inside.