Pumpkin Party

Come here you glorious orange bastard.

I commanded the plump pumpkin before me.

Serenely, It stayed where it was. It was big, round and pristine. Like an orange giant's Left Jeffrey.

I reached out and grabbed it.

Lovely big pumpkin bastard.

I muttered as I pulled another into my trolley. Then another. Then another. Soon, I had about eight pumpkins. As I was examining them with a pleased smile, I heard a voice call my name.

Fucking hell, Boomy, you got enough pumpkins?

I turned and looked to the owner of the voice.

It was my mate Daz. I hadn't seen him for a while since all the stramash with my ever diminishing family.

Dude, man! How are ya!

I grabbed his hand and we exchanged all manner of manly fist bumps, shakes and shoulder bashes to show our broham'ity.

After some quick pleasantries, the conversation turned back to my massive pumpkin haul.

Well, the Good Lady is having a pumpkin party this afternoon. She asked me to get some nibbles and shit in for it and here I am. There is about six of them coming so I got a couple of spares as well.

I explained.

A pumpkin party? I have never heard of such a thing. Is it some daft American thing?

Daz asked.

Probably, You know the Americans. Funnily enough, wifey-chops never asked me to get actual pumpkins but how can you have a pumpkin party without actual pumpkins!

I laughed. Daz joined in and for a solid minute or two we laughed at the daft antics of *burds.
*_{A quaint Scottish term for ladies.}

Well, good luck mate. It's messy as fuck carving pumpkins and with so many...

Daz shook his head.

We exchanged a few more fist bumps, shoulder bashes then a final high five before parting ways.

I paid for the massive load of pumpkins and hauled them out to the car and set off for home.

As I drove I had another chuckle at the Good Lady actually forgetting to ask me to buy pumpkins. She could be awfully silly at times. Still, what did I care, after I had dropped off the nibbles and pumpkins the Good Lady had said I could head out for the afternoon and I had decided to use my free pass to go for a fancy dan lunch with my brother.

I parked the car in the drive and started unloading the pumpkins, bringing them into the hall of our little home.

I could hear the hum of voices from the lounge. It sounded a lot calmer than you would expect with a gaggle of pumpkin hungry kids.

I grabbed a couple of the pumpkins and pushed open the door to the lounge.

THE PUMPKIN MAN IS HERE!!!

The Good Lady looked up, so did a host of her Doula friends including the crow-like Olette.

Eh, Daddy-Bear, what are you doing?

The Good Lady looked annoyed. She also looked strangely undressed, her breast pumping machine was out and firmly nozzled to one of her bing-bongs.

I looked around.

There were several ladies there and many bing-bongs out, each of them with a variety of conical nozzles attached. The sound of many breast pumps mechanically wheezing like old men filled the room.

Realisation dawned on me.

Oh, you said a pumping party...