Okay so what to write about? I’ve decided on pumpkins. You know, the ones you cut up every October for your own personal pleasure. It’s a bit sick really. You come along and go, “Oh, this is a very nice pumpkin”, and put it in your trolley that’s full of other plants and things. And then the pumpkin looks around and says, “oh shit, I’m gonna be gutted. I knew the rumours were true”. Then it gets to the till, and the cashier says, “That’ll be £4 please”, and the pumpkin wants to shriek and say, “I’m worth more than that, you fool!” but it’s all in vain because no-one will ever hear his pleas.

Anyway, then it sits in your house for a few days until you can get off your lazy arse and be bothered to tend to it. In which time, it has some fun watching your tv, smelling your food, and laughing at your aerobic work out videos.

Then the fateful day comes about. The pumpkin wakes up as usual, and settles down to watch the day’s entertainment. However, he is most mistaken if he thinks that this is any normal day. Oh no, this is the day where no mercy is held for pumpkins around the world. You pick up a knife, wave it about a bit, just to test the weight. Then you approach the pumpkin and it starts screaming in its little pumpkinny scream, and then you stab it in the head. You cut a huge whole through its skull, and then it finally dies. You then proceed to remove its brains to put in a soup later, and carve out the insides of its head.

When the process is finished, the pumpkin gets left on a window sill or front porch until the day of Hallowe’en arrives. Then all the preparations are made, the decorations hung, the various chocolates accumulated in a big orange bowl, and a lighted candle is placed inside the dead pumpkin’s carcass.

I bet no-one even looks at these said pumpkin candle holders. There really is no reason for them that I can think of. They don’t even look particularly nice.

Never mind. I’m sure they’ve all gone to a better place.