Local Gourd Artist Loses Pumpkin Contest, Gains Unshakable Sense of Injustice

A LaughParty comic take.

A LaughParty comic take. Everything below is invented, including the judges, the trophy, and the pumpkin's feelings.

In the fictional town of Squashbury Falls, a man named Gerald Pithwick has spent the past 72 hours explaining to anyone within earshot that his jack-o'-lantern was robbed. The mail carrier has heard it. The neighbor's dog has heard it. A telemarketer reportedly hung up on Gerald, which Gerald considers a second loss.

Gerald's entry, titled Melancholy at Dusk, With Teeth, took eleven hours, four carving tools, and one butter knife that is no longer welcome in the kitchen. It featured a haunted lighthouse, a flock of bats in mid-flight, and a tiny window in which, if you squinted and believed in yourself, you could see a ghost reading a newspaper.

The winning pumpkin had two triangle eyes and a smile.

The judges, a panel consisting of the mayor's cousin, a retired crossing guard, and a seven-year-old named Brayden, praised the winner for its classic energy. Brayden added that the lighthouse pumpkin looked like a cheese grater having a bad day, a review Gerald has since had printed on a T-shirt out of spite.

Witnesses say the trouble began when Gerald's pumpkin, which was ambitious but structurally optimistic, began to slump during judging. By the time the panel reached it, the lighthouse had become a leaning tower and the bats appeared to be fleeing a crime scene. The newspaper-reading ghost had fully collapsed into the pumpkin's interior, which Gerald insists was a deliberate artistic statement about the decline of print media.

Meanwhile, the triangle-eyed winner sat there, firm and cheerful, like a pumpkin with a good credit score.

Gerald received an honorable mention ribbon, which he describes as a participation trophy for adults with feelings. He has pinned it to his fridge, upside down, as a form of protest.

Experts in the field of autumn decor, by which we mean Gerald's aunt, say this is a common experience. Every October, thousands of hopeful carvers learn the same hard truth: the pumpkin does not care about your vision. The pumpkin is 90 percent water and 10 percent betrayal. It will hold your masterpiece exactly long enough for you to take one blurry photo, and then it will begin its transformation into soup.

Still, Gerald remains undeterred. He has already purchased next year's pumpkin, a gourd so large it required a wheelbarrow and an apology to his lower back. His plan is to carve a full replica of the town hall, including working shutters.

When asked whether he might consider something simpler, perhaps two triangles and a smile, Gerald stared into the middle distance for a long time.

Then he whispered, I would rather lose.

Brayden has already agreed to judge again.

Inspired by Didn't win Pumpkin Carving Contest..