An Ironic Consumer interview by J.R. Antrim

J.R. Antrim: So, you're a pumpkin.

Mr. Pumpkin: Right.

J.R. Antrim: In a brown sweater.

Mr. Pumpkin: And your point is?

J.R. Antrim: Er... nothing. Let me start by saying, Happy Halloween!

Mr. Pumpkin: Happy? Ha! What's there to be happy about?

J.R. Antrim: Well, there are costumes, candy, decorations...

Mr. Pumpkin: People trying to carve me open, teenagers trying to smash me, little kiddies beggin' for pie. Let me tell you, this is not a good time of year to be a pumpkin.

J.R. Antrim: Don't pumpkins generally grow this time of year?

Mr. Pumpkin: Exactly. THAT'S how much my life sucks. I'm constantly hounded, and in a couple months... mush. Throw me in the backyard and call me fertilizer.

J.R. Antrim: Oh, I wouldn't say —

Mr. Pumpkin: No, I understand. I get all black and sticky and gross. I wouldn't touch myself like that. Not that I could, with these stumpy little arms —

J.R. Antrim: Allright! New subject. What's that you're carrying there?

Mr. Pumpkin: It's a welcome sign.

J.R. Antrim: I notice it looks more like plastic vomit.

Mr. Pumpkin: You got me. I just painted "welcome" there so it wouldn't look like I had vomit glued to my hand. And before you ask, the string is there to remind me that I'm going to die alone and never find love.

J.R. Antrim: Don't say that. You're a perfectly... orange looking pumpkin. I'm sure you'll eventually score with some foxy pumpette.

Mr. Pumpkin: Obviously you weren't paying attention. I'm a pumpkin! Best case scenario, nobody guts me and I get to die a peaceful death. Only then will my rotting body release its seed into the earth.

J.R. Antrim: ...

J.R. Antrim: So the miracle of life for you is just zombie-fucking the ground?

Mr. Pumpkin: Exactly.

J.R. Antrim: Okay, I'm convinced. It sucks to be a pumpkin. But I still love pumpkin pie!

Mr. Pumpkin: Oh god, it's sick! You people make pie out of our head meat!

J.R. Antrim: Come on, try a bite.

Mr. Pumpkin: No!

J.R. Antrim: Come on, smell that cinnamon...

Mr. Pumpkin: Never! I'm glad you guys have serial killers! See how you like it!

J.R. Antrim: That's it. [Shoves pie in face]

Mr. Pumpkin: *chomp*chew*swallow* Oh god, why can't I stop myself? I'm a filthy man, a filthy dirty man!

J.R. Antrim: See? Everybody loves pumpkin pie.

Mr. Pumpkin: Oh god, you bastard — that pie was my mother!

J.R. Antrim Wow, small patch. This has been J.R. Antrim, wishing you all a Happy Halloween!

Mr. Pumpkin: *uncontrollable sobbing*

- J.R. "Thor" Antrim likes them french fried pump'ktaters. Uh huh.

Left on the Cutting Room Floor

J.R. Antrim: I notice you're a most peculiar pumpkin --

Mr. Pumpkin: Ooh wow, nice alliteration. I notice you're a most horrible human.

J.R. Antrim: Thank you.