It's passed the bewitching hour in South Park, with all souls a slumber. From the dark and still woods on the outskirts in an area transverse only by hunters and young minds on the hunt for adventure, a singular head light illuminates the cold air in the night. Smoke, like a ghostly continuously rising apparition, bellows upwards into the wind which has started to churn. The silhouette of a black train is made clear from the blue moonlight. It steams forward and passed our vantage points, with rattling box car after rattling old wooden box car. Lit and empty passenger cars pass, followed by an open side display of an old box. After some traveling it comes to a sudden halt behind a moderate grocery store. The lights suddenly cut on in the store as lightning strikes around the area of the store.
Stan sleeps in his room, with the only source of light coming down from the moon. A distant train whistle can be heard. Stan tosses briefly and lies on a side, still sleeping.
.
The sun bathes the town of South Park in beautiful shades of orange, filling the exciting air of spirit with warmth and twinkles of glowing glitter on that Saturday morning.
Kyle runs downstairs.
"Hey mom, I'm gonna go play with my friends!"
"Kyle, bubula, you haven't eaten your breakfa-"
The front door slams.
Gerald replies, "He'll be find – he's a boy."
"Oh, I just worry. Oh my – this new coffee flavor is delicious."
.
Kyle runs through the town with Stan and Kenny. His voice speaks over the action, "First of all, it was October – a rare month for boys. Full of cold winds, long nights, dark promises. The days get shorter, the shadows lengthen. The wind warms in such a way you want to run forever threw the fields, because up ahead ten thousand pumpkins lie waiting to be cut…"
They stop at a large patch.
"Dude – look at all the pumpkins!" Stan exclaims.
"Awesome! I'm gonna carve a dick in mine," says Kyle.
"Hey, this one over here is shaped like a dick," Stan says.
Eric walks over with a red wagon in tow.
"Heuw, luk aht twis one!" says Kenny, his voice muffled.
"Awesome!" says Stan.
Kyle ads, "It's as big as your head, Kenny!"
"Excuse me," Eric says to a couple blocking the wide path into the pumpkin patch, "Excuse me!"
"Um, this pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks is excellent," says the husband.
"Really?" asks the wife.
"Hey! Get the fuck out of the way!" Eric yells, finally opting to simply shove his way through the oblivious couple.
"Eric, over here – Kenny found a big one!" says Kyle.
Eric drags the wagon over toward Kenny as he and Stan roll the pumpkin out of the patch on its side.
"Sweet. I don't know, Kenny, that pumpkin's awfully big; you might need like a lay-a-way monthly plan, that way in 30 years you might own it. 'cause you're so poor."
"Fwuk yu."
Kenny then goes and helps Stan with the pumpkin he selected.
"What took you so long? I thought you said you were going to leave ten minutes earlier so we'd meet you here," says Kyle.
"I did but I got stuck behind the Doritos truck," Eric replies.
"You have heard of walking around obstacles before, right?" Kyle retorts.
"I tried but the closer I got the more it reeked of pumpkin spice."
Stan and Kenny stop the next pumpkin at the wagon.
"Don't be ridiculous – there's no such thing as pumpkin spice Doritos," says Kyle.
"Whatever – I couldn't stand the smell," says Eric.
"Yeah, pumpkin spice is okay for like five minutes but I'd rather smell my gym socks then that," says Stan.
"I like the way it smells. I've been thinking about buying a pumpkin-spice scented candle," says Kyle.
"Mwee touw," Kenny jumps in.
"You guys are out of your minds. I fart more tolerable odors after eating KFC," says Eric.
"We'll just take your word for that fart huffer," Stan says as he loads his pumpkin.
"All right, pull, Eric," Kyle says after Stan joins him and Kenny climbs in to keep the pumpkins from falling out.
"The point is, I had to wait for the truck to turn off before I could safely proceed," Eric says as he pulls and the others push.
"It's only pumpkin spice, not mosquito spray," says Kyle.
Eric replies, "Probably kills a mosquito just as dead."
"Well, I like the way it smells," Kyle says.
"Mosquito spray?" Stan asks, confused.
"No, pumpkin spice."
"Same difference," says Eric.
Eric stops pulling once they reach Ned and Jimbo, who are sitting in lawn chairs with beers in hand from a cooler.
"Whoa, that's quite a haul, boys," says Jimbo.
"Yeah, uncle Jimbo, Kenny's got a really big one!"
"Whoa, sounds like he's going to be really popular with the girls."
"I don't get it," Stan replies.
"Oh, that's okay. That'll be eight dollars boys; that includes the uncle dollar discount."
"Thanks!" says Kyle.
"Yeah, thanks uncle Jimbo. Hey, what's that you're eating?"
"These?" he stops munching on a cookie, "Why, these are Keebler Fudge Strips. Pumpkin spice flavored Fudge Strips."
"Oh,," Stan says, handing Jimbo the money.
"Take care, boys!" Jimbo waves as they push the wagon toward the trail exit.
Kyle's voice talks over the scene of them leaving, "Second of all, it had been such a promising week; each new beautiful day in turn promised another. The world was ours and we relished it. At such precious rare moments as these we paid not mind to the danger ahead, which wafted in the air in the breeze upon the leaves and the faces of the innocent."
.
Stan sets his pumpkin by the front door of his house and opens the door.
"Bye you guys!" Stan shouts.
"Bye, Stan!" Kyle calls back as he and Kenny wave.
The load lightened and on flatter ground, Kenny hops out to help push.
"Hey, dad," says Stan as he enters.
"Hey, son," Randy says, walking out of the kitchen with his beer dispensing hat on.
"I thought the game wasn't until tomorrow."
"Yeah, it's tomorrow. Why?" asks Randy.
"Well, your drinking beer like it was Sunday. From a hat."
"Stan, beer is for all days ending in a 'y',, not just on footballs Sunday, AKA: The holy day."
"Oh, okay. God, what's that smell?" asks Stan. He uses his right hand to waft away the repugnant odor.
"Oh, your mom is cooking again," sipping beer from the helmet straws.
Stan walks into the kitchen, "What are you cooking?"
"Oh, Stan – I didn't even hear you enter. You see this?"
"What is it?" he asks.
"Pumpkin spice pie."
"Oh. It smells awful."
"You know, I figured: What would make the same boring old pie crust come to life? And it hit me – delicious pumpkin spice! I didn't even realize I had any – it was just there."
"You're not high, are you?"
"Oh! I feel like chef Emeril Lagasse himself!"
"Oookaayyy…" Stan backs out of the kitchen.
.
Shadows move across the town as the bewitching hour nears, from the clouds above. All is quiet in the still blue night. Stan slumbers peacefully, sketches of pumpkin faces nearby. Kyle cradles a pillow. Eric lies quietly. And Kenny tosses.
In a location unknown, people fully clothed in black from head to toe, stare up high where a large pumpkin moves forward. The face splits asunder from the center vertically and peels away to reveal a giant old-fashioned clock face ticking nearly upon midnight. As the minute and hour hands join, in unison the individuals fill the room with a low bellowing hum. The singular bell cloche rings loudly.
Randy, watching TV late on the living room couch, falls asleep.
Officer Barbrady, patrolling, falls asleep and as he does, his squad car shuts down.
Various patrons in the bar suddenly fall sleep.
People cleaning buildings and stocking supplies like the large grocery store, suddenly fall asleep.
Every man, woman and child in South Park goes to sleep, and every car on, cuts off and rolls to a stop.
Inside the grocery store people in all black enter, carrying boxes. Stopping in various isles they open and start stocking the contents: pumpkin spice Jell-O, pumpkin spice marshmallows, pumpkin spice Doritos, and other pumpkin spice products. One of the group leaves an unopened box by a stock clerk.
Inside the Starbucks the pumpkin spice latte dispenser is refilled.
At the bar bottles of pumpkin spice beer are left behind.
And at the homes of various town residents, pumpkin spice products are left.
As quickly as they came, the mysterious individuals vanish.
The giant clock ticks on 12:01. The humming stops and the pumpkin face covering closes back up as the whole clock moves backwards into the wall.
People start waking back up. Cats cut back on and start moving again.
Barbrady wakes up, "Huh? 12:01? Oh, God, I've been abducted again!"
Kenny continues to toss and turn in his sleep.
.
…
The glow and warmth of the early-morning orange sun envelops the land, signaling a pleasant day of friendship and potential life-long memories ahead. All one had to do was but to grasp upon a ray of sunshine.
Eric wakes up. He stretches and gets out of bed. He takes off his pajamas and puts on his familiar red shirt, then pulls his hat over his head. Once his shoes are on he makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen. He pulls out a chair and climbs up into it. He looks around.
"Breakfast."
He looks around again, impatiently.
"Breakfast!" he demands loudly."Oh, just a minute, puffy-kins – I'm in the bathroom," she calls out.
"Fine! I have to do everything around here," he gets down and pushes the chair to a cabinet, opens it, and gets some cereal, then pushes the chair back and goes for the milk in the fridge. He climbs back up the chair and puts both items on the table.
Liane walks into the kitchen as Eric pours milk into his cereal, "Sorry about that."
"Bacon!" he demands.
"I'll fry you up some bacon right now."
Eric fiddles with his phone in one hand while eating cereal with the other.
Thinking, Eric looks across the table and abruptly stops eating the cereal, "Oh, man, sweet – Oreos!" he leans over drags the package to himself, quickly ripping it open and cramming an Oreo into his mouth. After a split second of chewing he turns his head to a side and spits it out onto the kitchen floor, "What the fuck?!"
"Eric, you know you shouldn't curse," his mother says.
"It tastes line Nanci Pelosy's asshole!"
"Oh," placing a plate down for the cooking bacon, "that's a special new holiday flavor."
"Nanci Pelosey's asshole has a holiday?"
"Pumpkin spice flavor!"
"Fuck!" he pushes himself away from the kitchen table and hops down and quickly exits the kitchen. He runs upstairs quickly to his bathroom and grabs the mouth wash. After repeated vigorous swishing and spitting and repeating, he then brushes his teeth.
"Bacon's ready, Eric!" he hears her call out.
"Oh, fuck – I can still taste it. What manner of fuckery is this?!"
.
Stan, Kenny, Kyle and Eric walk about town. Eric furiously uses dental floss to try and remove any lasting bits of the pumpkin spice Oreos.
"What should we go to today?" Stan asks them.
"I don't know – seems like such a nice day to waste doing nothing," says Kyle.
"I know – let's go play around in the WalMart ruins," Stan suggests.
"Cool!" says Kyle.
"Ahwsum!" Kenny exclaims, voice muffled.
"Cartman, you keep flossing that much and you'll create tooth ravines. Why are you flossing anyway?"
"I'm trying to get this fucking pumpkin spice Oreos flavor out of my mouth!"
"Why'd you even buy them?"
"I didn't – my mom did."
"My mom has pumpkin spice crap, too," says Stan.
"It won't go away! It's like Mother Nature is violating my mouth!"
Stan takes the dental floss dispenser and reads it aloud, "Pumpkin-spice flavored dental floss."
"Son of a bitch!" he grabs it and throws it off into the bushes.
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," says Kyle.
"Why is it so popular? I don't even know anybody who buys it," asks Stan.
"Well, I like it," Kyle reiterates.
"So, you buy pumpkin spice products?"
"Well … no," Kyle replies.
"See!"
"Hello, boys," they see a scruffy stranger with disheveled hair and tattered clothing approaching them.
"Wait – aren't we supposed to do something?" Kyle asks.
"Like what?" asks Stan.
"Something that rhymes: something something stranger danger something or other."
"I don't even remember how that goes," says Stan.
"Ah, too late – stranger's already here," says Kyle.
The man speaks up, "Can you feel it in the air, boys?"
"It's not dirty, is it?" asks Eric.
"Hellfire storm's a comin'. An electrical storm."
"Look mister, if you're trying to sell something, we already blew most our allowances on pumpkins."
"It'll clean your streets and wash away your pumpkin spice scented troubles."
"Just gives us the sale's pitch so we can say no," says Eric.
The stranger continues, "Some folks need special protection. I can sniff out which of your homes is in danger."
Eric comments, "That's just Kenny's house: it's dilapidated and is pretty rank."
"Did you say pumpkin spice?" Stan inquires.
"Shhh – can you smell?" the man asks.
"Pumpkin spice? That's Eric," says Kyle.
"Must be that old wind again. Can't you smell it? Your home is in need of protection," to Stan. He then pulls out a long metal rod with a crystal in one end, from a holster strapped to his back.
"Sweet, dude!" Kenny says.
The man hands it to Stan, "You just go right home and tell your father that Mr. Rod Fury of the long rods presents his compliments. And your house is in very urgent need of protection, too," he then speaks to Eric.
"Okay," Eric says to the rest of them, "We're buying these stupid rods with the fake crystals in them so this weird guy will go away. Plus we can probably break things with them and make lightsaber noises."
"How much?" Kyle asks.
"Ah, how much you got there?" asks Rod.
"Well…" suddenly a five dollar bill blows passed Kyle; he picks it up, "Wow – check it out, five bucks."
Rod replies, "What a coincidence, five smackers ought to do it."
"Here you go," says Kyle.
Rod hands out the rods, "Just put 'em aside your chimneys. When the time comes, they'll do the rest."
"Bye-bye suspiciously weird and disheveled stranger!" says Stan.
"Good-bye, boys!" the man calls back to them as he continues to walk toward town.
"Here you go, Kenny," Kyle hands Kenny one of the long metal rods.
"Oh, cool," Kenny says, examining the rod. He stops when he realizes they're all watching him. "Whut?"
"Nothing," says Kyle.
"Yeah, just, ah, waiting for something to happen," says Stan.
"Wike whut?" asks Kenny.
"Oh, I don't know…" Stan trails off.
Thunder rumbles in the distance. They quickly step away from Kenny.
"Whut?" Kenny asks again.
.
Kyle enters his home.
"Hey mom, hey dad!"
"Hey, Kyle, did you have fun?"
"I sure did," he walks to the kitchen, "Have you seen the long ladder? I need … what is that smell?"
"Oh, bubula, it's pumpkin spice flavored bacon to go with our pumpkin spice dinner from Chipolte."
"I don't get it; why would anybody put pumpkin spice in bacon? That's like adding Pop Tarts to cake – the cake is fine the way it is."
"Well, Kyle, pumpkin spice is the spice of life."
"That was a very confusing non-answer to a question not asked. Anyway, I need to put this giant rod up aside the chimney."
"What's it do?"
"Some guy said it will help protect us. We're apparently in need of protection."
"It's behind the storage shed. Get your father to help. Being Jewish these days what with the beheadings and stabbings, we could use all the protection we can get."
"Cool," he goes to find his dad.
.
Midnight once again draws near in South Park. The large pumpkin once again moves outward and splits open to reveal the decoratively carved hands and stylized Roman numerals. When it strikes twelve, the people in black once again hum. Around town residents yet again fall asleep, if not already so; cars cut off, printing presses stop, and other machinery ceases. Here and there the mysterious people come out to place pumpkin spice products. One switches out a box of M&M's for pumpkin spice flavored ones. They vanish from whence they came as 12:01 arrives. The humming stops, the clock is hidden as the large pumpkin face closes, and people come to and cars and machinery start back up.