Whecksley is trying to put on a local production of “Of Mice and Men” for the barnyard animals but no one ones is interested so he might end up playing all the parts.

Ah, behold! A quaint wooden pumpkin, no larger than a squirrel’s daydream. It hangs by a sneaky length of twine — rustic, possibly stolen from a scarecrow’s belt, and perfect for hanging upon a crooked nail or the branch of a particularly contemplative tree. It sways ever so slightly in the breeze, murmuring secrets of forgotten festivals and the laughter of scarecrows long since retired. A curious charm, indeed — like something a lost soul might carry in their pocket, just in case the forest starts to hum. Useful? Questionable. Whimsical? Deeply.

DO NOT PUT THESE OUTSIDE IT WILL GET GROSS