Ah, Tuesday, when we appeal (somewhat irregularly) to the pyromaniac in all of us. Remember, when it comes to pyromaniacy--or sexual harassment--if you do it once, it's not a problem. Or a pattern. It's an isolated incident.
Just, bear that in mind.
And what have you provided for us today, oh wonders of the internets? What have you given us to while away thirty seconds with this morning? Could it be gourds flying apart quickly and violently, accompanied by flashes of light and near-sonic booms?
Why, yes. Yes, it could be.
But, what would make a concussive end to a pumpkin's life more satisfying? Could it be, possibly, lighting the fuse with the lit end of a cigarette? How about someone worrying aloud and off-camera about their cat-litter-bucket-cum-pumpkin stand and the state of said litter bucket at the end of this exercise? How about throwing in a ramshackle barn, crudely made dog pens, and ten miles of green garden hose wound upon a hose reel and stretched out into the yard? What about someone opining off camera, loudly and barely intelligibly that it doesn't need to be so loud and enthusiastic next time?
Dear me, could we get all of those things in one?
Yes. Yes, we could get all of those things in one.
I'm sure he hasn't practiced by blowing up meth labs or anything before.