Pumpkin Slayer

Ah, laddies, pass around that whisky and listen to the story of the Pumpkin Slayer.  ‘Twas a cold and blustery October day, and I had put off my decision as long as I could.  My heel wouldn’t heal, so I had to quickly gather my bolts and bow for Procrastinators’ Brawl.  There would be no fencing for me.  We arrived with a minute to spare for me to enter my project in the Arts & Science competition.  It was a quiver I started in 1998 for my lady.  I should get around to finishing it one of these days.  Eventually, I wandered over to the archery range.  It wasn’t up yet, so I took a nap.  We’d eventually get around to shooting, after all.  It was Procrastinators, what’d you expect?

A call to arms!  Invaders!  Treasure to the one who drives the most off!  After a fair showing, we drove them off.  But then the undead arrived.  Shoot them in the skull!  Excellent aim, that showed ’em.  Wait, what’s this?!  A possessed pumpkin?  Kill it. KILL IT!!!  And so I did.  Oh, Jack was a right cheeky bastard, so that’s where I put the first shot.  Then I got him right between the eyes.  But it kept coming.  So I punched one right down it’s gullet – and through.  Afterwards, I tried to retrieve my bolts, but they were buried so deep we had to perform an autopsy on the jack-o-lanterns’ corpse.

Final score: 3+15+9=27 for second place.  But the winner was the person who ran the contest.  Which means:



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