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The Curse of the Pumpkin Patch Chickens! · The Alabama Show On Demand

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  Speaker 1: The Curse of the Pumpkin Patch Chickens. It was a
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  Speaker 1: cold October morning on the farm. Fog rolled through the
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  Speaker 1: chicken coop like smoke from a witch's cauldron. My roosters
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  Speaker 1: were quiet, too quiet. Even Dolly, the hen who usually
• 0:23
  Speaker 1: greets me with attitude before coffee, was frozen, staring at
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  Speaker 1: something out by the fence line. When I got closer,
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  Speaker 1: I saw it a single pumpkin, perfectly round, perfectly orange,
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  Speaker 1: sitting exactly where I have never planted one, and carved
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  Speaker 1: into the side were three letters b L. A producer.
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  Speaker 1: Blake had been bragging for weeks about his pumpkin patch Paradise,
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  Speaker 1: said he'd grown the biggest gourds in Alabama, but something
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  Speaker 1: about this one elt wrong. Then I heard it, a
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  Speaker 1: soft cluck. The chickens started circling the pumpkin, eyes glowing
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  Speaker 1: orange in the fog, and one by one they began
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  Speaker 1: to peck at it. But when I turned away, just
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  Speaker 1: for a second, the pumpkin wasn't there anymore Pumpkin spices forever,
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  Speaker 1: and that's when I knew Producer Blake's pumpkin spice obsession
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  Speaker 1: had gone too far. By the time I made it
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  Speaker 1: to Blake's pumpkin patch. The sky had turned blood orange.
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  Speaker 1: Rose of pumpkins stretched across the field, every single one
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  Speaker 1: glowing faintly like candles lit from the inside. And right
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  Speaker 1: in the middle stood Producer Blake, holding his pumpkin spice
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  Speaker 1: latte like a trophy. Well the pumpkin head or maybe
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  Speaker 1: pumpkin hair behind him, I swear the pumpkins started chanting
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  Speaker 1: ps so ps so ps so. Their vines slithered through
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  Speaker 1: the dirt like snakes, and one wrapped around Producer Blake's leg.
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  Speaker 1: He didn't even notice, he was too busy bragging about
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  Speaker 1: his new pumpkin scented beard oil. Then one of the
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  Speaker 1: pumpkins split open and outrolled something small and fluffy. It
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  Speaker 1: was a chicken, but not just any chicken. This one
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  Speaker 1: had pumpkin eyes. Before I could move, the vine shot
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  Speaker 1: out and wrapped around my boots. The chickens were closing in,
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  Speaker 1: glowing like jack o' lanterns with feathers. You can never
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  Speaker 1: escape the pumpkin patch once you've had the spies. The
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  Speaker 1: last thing I remember was Blake offering me a sip
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  Speaker 1: of his latte and whispering pumpkin spice or Pumpkin sacrifice