On Saturday morning, the Greatist team woke up to a gray, harrowing sky. With Halloween almost too close in sight, the creaking trees and haunting wind made everyone feel a little…unusual. As they rose from their chambers to make way to Greatist Headquarters, it started to rain.
Then, snow began to fall— fairly strange for October— followed by claps of thunder. Still, the Greatist Team marched ahead, each clutching a knife close to their side. They were, after all, about to carve pumpkins.
Upstairs, the office was oddly cold; the heat had shut off overnight. The team collected their pumpkins and, one by one, sliced the blade of the knife around its head. They then ripped out the pulp, which left their hands covered in thick slime. Minimal eye contact was made, and no words were spoken.
And then the stabbing began— with quick, swift movements, while haunting music played in the background. The carving continued with frightful intensity, since the best pumpkin would be crowned winner. And nobody was quite sure what would happen to the losers…
One jack-o-lantern revealed a demonic face. Another, confusion and fear. The others were not faces at all— a risky choice. The first revealed the Greatist “G”, and the second, a dumbbell, apple, and (gasp!) a smiley face.
The Boss, dressed in long black gloves and a wool cape, made his way around the workroom examining each pumpkin with a grave expression on his face. After a harrowing silence, he began to speak. “While each pumpkin here is carved with an artistic fright, I cannot pick just one winner. I have deemed you all Greatists. Now, eat this special pumpkin tart. I made it…myself.”
The Greatist team, although surprised, was happy with the outcome, and started to dig in.
The Boss, however, did not take a single bite. Since then, nobody has heard from the team. All that is left are their pumpkins.
