Frankenpump

(Story and lyrics by Michael Wright & Terri Reeves, with apologies to Harold Arlen)

 

Years ago, in the little German town of Wormloch, the village people put on fall festivals to showcase some of the world’s largest pumpkins. Because of the favorable climate and slightly acidic, nutrient-rich soils, they produced beastly gourds that could top out at 2,000 pounds or more.

The behemoths came from champion seeds, cultivated from varieties grown by the ancient Germanic tribe known as the Franks. The Franks originally grew the goliath gourds for weaponry, rolling them over the edge of the cliffs to pulverize
enemies below.

After the Franks became more civilized, the giant pumpkins were showcased in fall festivals where they were smashed with clubs or carved into boats for a pumpkin regatta, elaborate chandeliers, and Cinderella dream carriages.

The festivals came to an end in
1987, however, due to the activities of a brilliant young, “mad scientist” named
Luke. He spent long hours tweaking the pumpkins’ DNA, adjusting growth hormones and amino acids, and
balancing their water and sugar to increase the rate of cell growth.

Finally, his genius methods
produced a whopping 2,535-pound giant — the biggest, the grandest, the world had ever seen. The skin was bright orange and nearly flawless.
The shape was round and perky. It
was a gluttonous beast that consumed
everything in sight.

Luke called it Frankenpump.

When Luke weighed his monster at the fall fest, the head judge cried out,
Omigod! Ring the bells! Wormloch is about to become rich and famous!

The townspeople got busy preparing for an influx of tourists and the Deutsche Marks they would bring. Soon reporters and visitors began arriving and the cacophony of clicking cameras was non-stop.

Wait a minute!” Luke yelled. Get me in some of these shots!” He stood beside the pumpkin, smiled for the cameras and leaned into the gourd. Suddenly the surface of the pumpkin became gelatinous and he fell into the mass. Then, with a horrifying whoosh,” Luke was sucked into the pulsating belly of the beast. Almost immediately the rind sealed over and was as hard as armor.

Luke was gone.

At that moment, Frankenpump began to bounce and sing:

I could while away the hours
Conferring with the flowers,
Consulting with the rain,
And my head I’ll be scratching,
While my thoughts are busy hatching
Since I’ve finally got a brain.”

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