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As mentioned previously, some clever souls manage to elevate the simple craft of jack-o-lantern carving into an impressively complex art-form. Like this evil cannibal pumpkin above – I think his victim’s terrified facial expression is the icing on the cake. Halloween may be behind us now, but hacked up pumpkins are still hanging out on people’s stoops, slowly turning to mush. In the early hours of my birthday morning, in quiet, brownstone-lined Brooklyn backstreets, such surplus squash sat leering and jeering…

But all good things must come to an end. And so, one of my first accomplishments as a newly-minted 26-year-old was to aid in the jack-o-lantern disposal process. By tiptoeing up to people’s front doors, gingerly liberating rotting pumpkins, and smashing them to pulpy smithereens in the street. I don’t know what came over me; I thought the flashes of senseless petty vandalism that were the hallmark of my youth were long behind me. But there was something kinda magical about it; sure it was immature, but if I were still in Australia, or if I were in those same streets a week earlier or a week later, there would have been no pumpkin targets for a late-night mercy mission. And just mentally commentating the words I’m smashing pumpkins! was enough to spark memories of the flannel-clad 90s and an infinite looping Beavis & Butthead snigger

But a word of warning. Should the same frenzy ever overtake you on an early November night in America, be careful as you raise your booty high before its destruction – they collect rainwater and other rancid liquids which are unpleasant when they splash on your head.

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