The
Louisiana
Pumpkin
Conspiracy

Cletus Amarillo Marseilles was a man of considerable height, and also of considerable girth (he was fat)! An affliction he often cursed as his head grazed the beam on the front porch of the weathered shack he called 'ther' as often as he called it home. 'Ther' was in a small town in Louisiana at the end of a two mile long dirt road, where hunters generally parked their old pickup trucks ; abandoning them while they'd hunt opossums.

While Cletus considered himself a man of impeccable character others considered him tall and of terrible hygiene.

Cletus stood on his porch, as he often did on cloudy days, looking out over his field at the trees in the distance. He heard the crack of a rifle - like a sound of distant thunder, and wondered if it would rain.

He spat - an exclamation point to the gunshots' sound. But the phlegm found his barefoot instead of its intended mark. It was one of those days.

"Margaret . . ." He screamed, then coughed...

She never did answer, she hated it when he yelled at her. Just like she was that old mangy brown dog.

"Margaret!" he yelled again and turned around to walk inside.

"I tell you Margaret," said Cletus, largely to himself, "if it doesn't rain this month we're going to lose the entire season's pumpkin harvest."

Margaret looked out from the kitchen, eyes moistening with tears.

"I'll just die without pumpkin pie!" - she said.

"No, Margaret, I will get you a pumpkin, no matter what! I swear in my cat's live!!!" - said Cletus kneeling at Margaret.

Then he just disappeared like a magician from the old century.

The normally quiet air was filled with a sense of hate. Everyone in the family felt it. Cletus, Margaret and the kids all knew something was about to happen. In their fear they felt a creeping sense of depression and helplessness.

In the world of Cletus and Margret, pumpkins were more than just outrageously orange squashes. Ever since that mysterious lightening storm, explosion, and giant fire in the woods, things never were the same. Although pumpkins were the last thing in the world they normally would grow (typically, they raised tobacco and green beans), following the explosion, they found a huge pile of faintly-glowingpumpkin seeds, and decided, what the hey, let's try growing some pumpkins. So carefully they sowed a few rows of these odd looking seeds, applied some fertilizer enriched with Gatorade, and waited for the plants to sprout.

And sprout they did. But what was really so strange, is that they sprouted a few hours after planting. And they continued growing at such a fast rate, that flowers appeared after a few hours. And then small, bulbous fruits appeared near the middle of the next day. Very orange, very mysterious, and very bright. After only 24 hours, the pumpkins had grown to county-fair sized fruits. Margret took notice first, and called Cletus to have a look.

"Cletus . . . look!"
"OMG! " said Cletus.
"WTF?" their youngest daughter Cynthia exclaimed as she looked perplexedly at the ground.

A moment later Cynthia's brother traipsed over lazily.

"FTW!" he cried out.
"It's a GIMP" Cletus said, "A Gatorade Induced Malignant Pumpkin. I hear they pay a fortune for these in Asia"

Cynthia heard a "sqwuak" in the distance and looked up to see a hawk circling overhead. She wondered what it would be like if she was suddenly turned into a butterfly.

"Stop daydreaming stupid!", Cynthia's brother shoved her with his elbow.
"We're going to be rich" Cletus said, "It's very rare to successfully breed GIMP's, I'm sure we're the only one's in all of Louisiana!"

Margaret's eye's went teary again as she struggled with conflicting emotions. On the one hand she was delighted that her pumpkins were giant, and she had always dreamt of being rich one day. On the other hand her mother had died earlier that year from a malignant tumor, and she couldn't help being reminded of this by the gatorade induced malignant pumpkins. She wondered if her mother drank a lot of gatorade, or if all those years handling fertilizer in the garden while drinking gatorade had produced a toxic environment. She wispered to herself "gimm . . ." and started to cry.

That was last year. When they planted the seeds again this year, they had no Gatorade. So, they decided to wait for the rain. And, wait they did...

And Margaret, looking at his eyes said, "i love you". he said "how can you love me? im a vampire?", she then said "dont worry, i love you and i will love you as much as sookie did".

This all became too much. It was at that point that she decided to spark up a giant strawberry dutch blunt to eliminate the stress. That followed by a huge bong rip almost reset the whole situation, until pretty much no one could lift their arms. It was good budds.

After waking up with one of the largest pot hangovers ever Margaret woke up, and remembered vaguely a horribly written children's story book about a girl falling in love with a vampire. The headache soon drove that out and she got back to the pumpkin patch to work on her next huge idea. A Massive pumpkin bowl so this time her and 20 friends can smoke....