The Gelert stared straight ahead, pitchfork in hand, as he gazed lovingly at the Neopians who were contentedly picking pumpkins. This batch was the last of the season, and Gilbert had proudly proclaimed they were the largest of the year, too. So naturally, the unfortunate Neopians who’d neglected to harvest came to Pick Your Own by the score, hoping to collect a pumpkin or two for seeds and pie. More Neopians than expected had gathered and paid him handsomely for the opportunity.

Gilbert licked his lips dreamily, thinking of the pumpkin pie he would make with what was left over from the pumpkin picking season, but snapped out of his reverie to focus on his task. The Gelert had worked in the fields of Meridell for several years, and as such his sharp eyes could tell when someone was stuffing so much as a berry over the fruit limit. The Gelert had been clever enough to set one when he’d first started the business.

He smiled as a small Cybunny nearly toppled over while holding up a pumpkin nearly as big as herself, and a larger Cybunny laughed and took the colossal fruit from her paws. Gilbert felt the familiar warmth in his heart that came from making his fields open to the public—giving Neopians the experience he himself had lacked as a child. It had been months of labour, sweat, and blistered paws, but this, he decided, was well worth it.

“Mr. Pick Your Own Gelert, sir?” A Baby Acara pulled at his tunic insistently.

The Gelert looked down in surprise. Not many of his customers came to him directly except to thank him briefly, and then they usually left. “Er, yes, little one?” he asked, looking around briefly for the child’s parent.

“This pumpkin looks funny! Can you come and see?” the child asked.

Gilbert’s ears switched back and forth at the thought of potential losses he’d net from not maintaining constant vigilance, but he looked once more at the child and decided no could not be a valid answer. “Why, certainly,” he said with hesitation, taking the child’s paw and following the Acara.

The Gelert and the Acara trudged through several rows of pumpkins, which the farmer counted in his head. Thirty-nine, forty, forty-one… The pair had stopped in row 42.

Gilbert stared at the pumpkins, wondering what in Neopia the child could have been talking about.

His blood became thick with ice as he noticed a sinister mouth shape on a pumpkin that was slightly off-colour...

"You see it?" the child asked him in a high-pitched voice when he didn't immediately comment on their finding. She shook the paw he was holding to get his attention. "Do ya? Do ya?" Her other paw frantically pointed at the strange fruit.

"Ah, yes, child, I do," he said. "Why don't you wait here for a moment, I'll find out why it looks so funny. Say, shouldn't you be with one of your parents?"

"They said I could find a pumpkin while I waited for them to talk to Iwwusen!" the Baby Acara answered. "I'm not scared, I'm a big girl!"

Ah. This was the first time Pick Your Own had been a day care, as far as he was aware. He'd have to have a word with the resident Earth Faerie some time in the future. For now, he had an anomaly to address.

He treaded closer to the odd pumpkin, his pitchfork at the ready in case the mouth decided to strike. Soon he was just a step away. Gently, he reached down to nudge it with the pitchfork, when suddenly...

Already on edge, Gilbert whipped his head up and around. The sound was high and chipper but small. He didn't recognize it, and he felt a flush of consternation--what if the rest of his patrons found this strange pumpkin and were put off by its presence here? The people of Meridell were a superstitious lot...

But the closest patron was three rows away, a Red Scorchio bent low over a tangle of medium-sized, perfectly orange, mouthless pumpkins. There was no one else with them in row 42, just him and the Baby Acara and--

The voice spoke again, definitely closer than the Scorchio.

With a mounting sense of dread, Gilbert cast his eyes down again at the strange, too-yellow pumpkin near his feet. Just as his gaze settled on its distorted shape, that sinister mouth started to move.

Gilbert dropped his pitchfork, grabbed the Baby Acara's paw, and dragged the child away from the pumpkin. As the Gelert watched with horror, the pumpkin fixed him with its carved eyes and, for the third time, said...

A tense silence followed for what felt like an eternity as Gilbert, the Baby Acara, and the pumpkin all stared at each other.

The Baby was the first to break the silence. "A talking pumpkin!! Mr. Gilbert, it's a talking pumpkin!!"

The pumpkin's eyes seemed to narrow after hearing this. "A talking pumpkin? Where?"

Gilbert just wanted to go home and eat some pumpkin pie. But now he was worried his pie might speak back to him.

He knelt down and looked directly into the pumpkin's carved eyes.

"You are the talking pumpkin. What...what... I'm not really sure what's going on. Are you a pumpkin? Some Petpet I don't know about?"

The pumpkin's eyes darted quickly from left to right, seemingly in a panic.

"WHAT IS GOING ON!?! Why am I a pumpkin!?!?! I wasn't a pumpkin last night!!"

"Um, what are you usually?"

The pumpkin closed its carved eyes and answered, "I don't know why I'm a pumpkin right now. I'm usually a..."

“What is wrong?” The Baby Acara asked, concern lacing her words.

“I wish I could say.” The pumpkin replied. “I’m afraid the Aisha has my tongue, figuratively speaking. What I want to say is that I’m usually a P…..p… POTATO!”

“A potato?” Both Gilbert and the baby questioned.

“No no no no! I have never been a potato! I have no idea why that word came out instead of p…p… PRUNES!” The pumpkin seemed to choke on his words. Gilbert recognized the struggle. It was one that he had only seen once before when he was a young pup. His reckless uncle had a similar dilemma.

“I don’t understand.” The Acara sat back on her haunches, surveying the pumpkin.

Gilbert grimaced “I’m afraid I do.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself, “Our new friend here is under the effects of a curse. He can’t share any identifying information that might lead others toward helping him break it.”

“Who would do such a thing?” The Baby asked, aghast.

“Isn’t it obvious? It was….”

"Wow, that's mean!" The Baby Acara exclaimed. "Why would a Faerie do that?"

"Well," Gilbert said carefully. "They don't, usually. Even Dark Faeries don't put curses on people completely unprompted."

Both the Gelert and the Acara looked over to the pumpkin. "What? Don't look at me like that!" The pumpkin sputtered. "I didn't do anything! At least, I did nothing to deserve being turned into a pumpkin!"

"Well, you must have done something," Gilbert insisted.

The pumpkin thought for a moment and sighed. "All I did was..."

“What did you take?” the Baby Acara asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

“I took a purple, glowing apple. I… I was so hungry, and… And the apple was so bitter, but I just kept eating it!” Tears welled in its glowing eyes, rolling down the pumpkin’s shiny orange skin. It began to wail and shake, drawing attention from the nearby Red Scorchio.

“Oh, no… You took a Dark Faerie Apple?” Gilbert asked in a hushed tone, leaning on his pitchfork and crouching down to meet the pumpkin’s gaze.

“I… I guess so,” the pumpkin said through sobs.

“What’s so bad about taking a Dark Faerie Apple?” the wee one asked as she comforted the pumpkin, stroking its head.

“The apples are cursed to ward off intruders and pests and the only way you can reverse the curse is to find the Dark Faerie who owns the tree…” the farmer explained gently.

“Will you take us to the tree you ate from, little pumpkin friend?” the Baby Acara asked, doe-eyed.

“Y-yes… I can,” the pumpkin managed to answer through its tears.

The Yellow Gelert picked up the pumpkin and said, “Take a deep breath and lead the way…”

Which would be worse, he wondered? Taking the Baby Neopet with him on this little outing, or leaving her behind, unsupervised? In the end, he decided it was probably best to keep her in sight until her parents came back for her, so they set off together.

The pumpkin, it seemed, could see perfectly well through those carved eyes, and remembered its steps well enough to retrace them. It directed him down one path and then another, until they were heading away from Meri Acres, and towards the woods that bordered Meridell.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Gilbert muttered, feeling a bit silly for taking directions from a pumpkin.

"I came along this path!" The pumpkin insisted. "I know it!"

"Well, it's just..." Gilbert murmured. "This Path doesn't lead to any Dark Faeries..."

At that moment, the Baby Acara squeaked with excitement, cutting off any further debate.

"It's Iwwusen's Gwade!"

Sure enough, the home of Meridell's most famous Earth Faerie stood before them, still littered with some of the decorations left over from the recent Faerie Festival that had been hosted here. Gilbert had attended Illusen's festival himself, and knew very well that this was the wrong place to find a Dark Faerie Apple.

"This can't be right." He began to say.

But the pumpkin gasped, interrupting the thought.

"This is the place!" It whispered hoarsely, "And look! Over there!"

Following the gourd's gaze, they turned to look, and saw...

How will this story end?

"Miss Iwwusen!" the Baby Acara cried from beside him. "We need your help!"

"My help?" Illusen turned towards them. "Gilbert, what's wrong with that pumpkin?"

"Hello Miss Illusen, Miss Jhudora. This kid here found this pumpkin in my patch. It seems this pumpkin used to be someone else that fell under a curse after eating an apple they found here," Gilbert said.

"An apple? From here?" Illusen looked around at the various trees in her garden. "Not one of the Dark Faerie Apples?"

"I'm very sorry, Illusen!" the pumpkin piped up from Gilbert's hands. "It was wrong of me to steal one of your apples, and I promise I will never ever do it again! Now could you please turn me back into a peanut- a parsnip- UGH!"

Illusen looked at the pumpkin for a long moment, then turned and planted her hands on her hips. "Jhudora, you gave me this apple tree as a birthday present many years ago, which means that the tree and all of its apples belong to ME. You should never have cursed this poor pumpkin in the first place!"

Jhudora rolled her eyes. "I will never understand how you tolerate such blatant disrespect from everyone. What would you have done if you were the one to discover this thief? Would you have punished them? Would you have even asked them politely not to steal from you?"

Illusen fumed silently.

Jhudora laughed. "See, this is what I mean! Your boundaries are so nonexistent that you'll let anyone walk all over you. Someone had to step in for once."

"But it didn't have to be you," Illusen said tightly. "Always meddling- this is why-" She cut herself off with a glance at Gilbert and the Baby Acara. "Anyway, can you turn them back into a Neopet already? I have other Neopians who need my help."

Jhudora scowled, but relented under Illusen's firm stare. "Fine, fine. You all, back up." She pulled out her wand, and a blinding flash of light enveloped the pumpkin.

Squinting through the brightness, Gilbert saw a beak spring into being and a pair of wings appear where the pumpkin's stem used to be. Well, he'd be darned.

"Woohoo!! I'm a Pteri again!" the former pumpkin cheered. He gave his wings an experimental flap, then launched himself into the air. "No offence, and I'm very grateful to no longer be a pumpkin, but I'm out of here before anything else happens to me. Thank you, Illusen! Thank you, Pick-Your-Own guy! Thank you, kiddo! I guess thanks to you too, Jhudora! Sorry again for stealing your apple!" He beat his wings frantically and flew rapidly until he was out of sight over the trees.

Illusen folded her arms over her chest. "All right, Jhudora, time to confess. Did you really curse that poor Neopian to not be able to say 'Pteri' because the 'p' is silent?"

Jhudora started to snicker. "I thought it was rather poetic of me, actually."

Illusen shook her head and sighed. "You never change, do you?"

"Look! It's my mama and papa!" the Baby Acara squealed suddenly. Two Acaras had just emerged from Illusen's home. She started running towards them, then stopped just as quickly and waved frantically at Gilbert. "Thank you, Mister Pick-Your-Own Gelert! Bye-bye!"

"Bye-bye," Gilbert said, waving back. Phew, he was exhausted. Kids these days had so much energy.

"Gilbert, I'd been meaning to ask you something," Illusen said from behind him.

"Yes, ma'am?" he said, turning around.

"That Pteri today got me thinking about all of the hungry Neopians out there. I'd like to do more to help them. I know you have berries and vegetables left over in your fields after the picking season is done. What do you think about donating them to me, and I can turn them into meals to feed the hungry?" Illusen winked. "I know the Faerie Festival is over, but I bet I could find some valuable items to trade you."

"That sounds like a real nice idea, Miss Illusen. I've got to get back to the farm now, but I'd be happy to work with you," Gilbert said.

Illusen smiled and clapped her hands together. "Oh, good! I really think we'll be able to help a lot of people together."

Jhudora rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Always such a bleeding heart." And Gilbert knew then that he had to hurry home and rest his tired eyes, because he could've sworn that he saw Jhudora smile.

The End.