‘And we get to celebrate in style at the Pumpkin
Patch! Golly Ghouls, I do love pumpkins.’
Amelia wanted to be a Pumpkinologist more
than anything in the whole world when she
grew up – she could imagine studying and
caring for pumpkins like Squashy forever!
Amelia also loved making things, and she
especially loved making things for Squashy.
Tonight her bedroom floor was covered in
black-and-orange material, goblin-slime
superglue and various cobwebbing tools.
The bedroom door creaked open, revealing
Countess Frivoleeta’s huge beehive hairdo
before the rest of her body. When she saw the
mess in Amelia’s room, she gasped.
‘Amelia, my dreadful little wart-picker, I
can’t see your bedroom floor!’
‘It’s creative mess,’ Amelia grinned. ‘Look,
I’m making some sunglasses for Squashy and
some tiny bow ties.’
The countess made a strange noise. ‘Amelia
Fang! It’s like you’re living in a goblin cave.
Wooo is waiting for you in the organ room, so
tidy this mess up and then go downstairs for
your practice. Quick-smart my dismal one!’
Amelia felt her cheeks flush. ‘But Mum, it’s
nearly my birthnight, and I’ve so much to
catch up on in Positively Pumpkin! Can’t I
skip organ practice just this week?’
‘Certainly not, darkling – you already
missed last week because you were at
3
pumpkin-patch digging. Organ practice is
important – pumpkin magazines are not.’
Amelia sighed. ‘Okay, Mum, I’ll be down in
a minute,’ she said, as the countess left the
room. Sometimes it felt like her mum just
didn’t understand.
‘Don’t worry Squashy, we’ll have your
costume ready, even if I have to stay up all
day to finish it.’
Squashy pa-doinged in excitement, but
landed on the tube of goblin-slime superglue
and a giant purple glob spurted all over
Amelia’s dress.
‘Oh no, be careful Squashy!’
shrieked Amelia, looking down
at the slimy patch.
But the little pumpkin leapt forward and landed on Amelia’s lap – slap-bang in the pile of goblin slime.
‘Uh-oh!’ cried Amelia. ‘You just sat in the glue . . .’
Squashy tried to pa-doing
out of her lap, but he
was firmly stuck.
Amelia looked around her bedroom in
search of some glitter – the only thing that
could dissolve goblin slime – but she couldn’t
see any.
‘We have to hurry, Squashy,’ urged Amelia.
‘Wooo is waiting for me and you’re stuck to
my lap . . . Argh!’
She tried her best to pull her dress off, but it
was rather difficult with a pumpkin stuck to
the front of it. Amelia found herself caught
half in and half out of the dress. Squashy had
begun to squeak in a panic and was swinging
from side to side, trying to free himself.
‘Whoa! Squashy, what are you doing?’ said
Amelia, trying to wriggle out of the tangled
garment. ‘Stop it, you’re making me lose
balance!’
But, determined to free himself, the little
pumpkin carried on swinging – causing
Amelia to stumble around the room like a
frenzied zombie.
‘OUCH!’ she cried out as she stomped on a small box full of buttons and lost her footing.
CRASH!
Amelia and Squashy went tumbling into the pumpkin-themed creations, sending the
whole lot flying across the room.
A few seconds later, her mum burst through
the door.
‘What the gravestones is going on?’ she
exclaimed, surveying the carnage.
‘Um . . . I can explain . . .’ said Amelia
sheepishly.
‘And what’s happened to your dress?’ her
mother said sternly.
Amelia looked down. Where Squashy had been swinging, there was a massive rip.
‘It was an accident, Mum, honest!’ said Amelia, scrambling to her feet. ‘I was just about to leave, and the glue spilt out
