Rob really liked Halloween. But not for the right reasons.
At fifteen, most people considered Rob too old to trick or treat, and as big as he was, most people had thought that of Rob for several years. So it wasn't about candy.
It was about pumpkins. Not carving them, not even eating them. No, Rob's passion was smashing them. So he set out early on Halloween to search out and destroy them. The more elaborately carved, the more he enjoyed destroying them. But as big as he ways, Rob wasn't entirely stupid. He moved quickly and quietly and never attacked when anyone was near.
That's why he was so surprised to hear a voice when he approached the big pumpkin with the top cut out like a flower and to small round holes near the bottom.
"Ya wouldn't want to hurt my pumpkin, would ya?" questioned the slow, dull sounding voice.
"Wh-- who said that?" stammered Rob.
"I did, and stay away from that pumpkin," said the scarecrow.
"This is some kind of trick," Rob answered. "Plywood heads can't talk." And Rob bent down to grab the pumpkin.
But suddenly Rob felt himself falling, impossibly, head first into the pumpkin. "No, this is some kind of trick," the scarecrow replied.
Rob managed to right himself, but now he was naked, except for a diaper. His legs were sticking out the holes at the front of the pumpkin and his head and shoulders were sticking out the top.
"No more pumpkin smashing for you," drawled the scarecrow.