Our pumpkin king is sadly much wasted. His sides are caving in under the weight of his own rotten flesh, and black mold has claimed his core and face. His gaze is grown feral and desperate, his underbite such that it would make an orc proud.

Now more akin to a horrific old man than the King of Halloween Town, I’m just waiting for our landlord to lend me his spade so that I can toss him out.