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JWR 4.34 - Where in the World Is Pumpkinhead? - Page 3

 


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From: Pumpkinhead
Sent: Monday, December 05, 2011
To: Wendy
Subject: Mele Kalikimaka

 

Aloha, Wendy!

 

Please donít hate me because Iím somewhere I know you really want to be.  Hawaii!

 

The beaches are pristine, the water and sky are so blue, and the palm trees are soÖpalmy.

 

Itís weird, though.  I still have that feeling of being watched.  It could be paranoia from the meth.  Itís everywhere here.  And really cheap.

 

That said: you havenít lived until youíve chilled on a beach high on the finest white cross the islands have to offer.  The Eskimos have fifty-two words for ďsnow.Ē Yeah, well, the Hawaiians have sixty-nine words for ďmethamphetamine.Ē  And that said: I keep hearing this strange giggling.  Oh well, itís nothing another hit of crank wonít cure.

 

Deep bows,

 

Pumpkinhead

 

 


 

From: Pumpkinhead
Sent: Tuesday, December 06, 2011
To: Wendy
Subject: Colombia

 

Hola again, Wendy,

 

Iím in Colombia and Iím looking for Joan Wilder.  Haha.

 

I know I said it before, but now Iím sure of it.  Iím being watched.  And followed.  Especially followed.  I flew into Cartagena and was just relaxing.  We visited the beach.  We ate some food.  We snorted copious amounts of cocaine.  (Is ďcopiousĒ a Spanish word?  It sounds like it.)  We danced.  We drank.  We got in a bar fight.  We made up with the guys we were fighting. 

 

While we had our arms slung over each othersí shoulders and sang some bar song that I was just going ďYah dah dee dahĒ to because I donít know the words, I spotted him.  I fucking spotted him.  It was just an instant but I saw him, that son of a bitch.  He though he was quick and slipped out of my view before I saw him, but he didnít.  I got him.  I know.  Heís come to kill me.  But I wonít let that happen.  Heís still on my tail.  I hear his footsteps when everything gets quiet.  I see shadows move.  I feel a hand on my shoulder.  When I turn around, nothingís there.  No oneís there.  But I saw him.  I know I did.  Iím not crazy.

 

Anyways, before all that happened, I visited a local market and we took a picture.  Blah blah blah.

 

Walk in light,

 

Pumpkinhead

 

 


 

 

From: Pumpkinhead
Sent: Wednesday, December 07, 2011
To: Wendy
Subject: Hooray Ganja

 

ĎEllo Wendy-mon,

 

Iím in Jamaica and I feel all right! 

 

Well, thatís not true.  I had quite a fright, but let me start at the beginning.  I high-tailed it out of Colombia as soon as I could get a flight.  I happened to be lucky enough to land in Kingstown, Jamaica.  I was sure I eluded my pursuer, so I felt at ease.  And I started partying.  This place is amazing, okay?  Donít let anyone tell you different.  The people are so nice.  I mean, not the gangsters who like to chop off arms and such just for being a squash, but the regular people are great: so friendly and generous and fun.  The Red Stripe here is excellent and the weed is amazing.  I think itís the atmosphere as much as the weed. 

 

I met this big group of locals who made me feel like part of their family.  We were all hanging out, eating jerked chicken, drinking a little, smoking a little (a lot), playing music and singing.  Having a great time.  Iím sending a picture of all of us gathered around and feeling irie.  Just a few minutes after that very picture was taken I heard a scream from behind us near the shoreline.  It was bedlam with so many people running around and yelling.  Then I saw him through the crowd of people, that bumbaclot!  He had just come out of the water and was drenched, already so close.  He wore a dreadlock wig to blend in, but it was soaked and matted to his head.  His eyes locked on mine and an instant later he began to charge at me.  I had to get away, so I pushed a little rasta girl in front of me.  He slammed into her and went sprawling; I took off like a bullet.

 

Iím waiting at the airport for my flight right now.  I canít tell you where Iím going in case he hacked my email.  I need some help to take care of him.  Heís relentless, dangerous and you know what he does to kids.

 

Radiant Silence,

 

Pumpkinhead

 

 


 

From: Pumpkinhead
Sent: Thursday, December 08, 2011
To: Wendy
Subject: At the Copacabana

 

°Hola, Wendy!

 

Iím back in a Spanish-speaking country.  Cuba!  Itís not made up of squares and rectangles like I imagined.

 

It was a pretty short flight to get here, but I was just hoping to get out of Jamaica without being followed.  And I thought I was okay for quite a while and was actually starting to enjoy myself. 

 

This place isnít so bad.  Drug laws are pretty strict, though, which sucks.  Iíve been drinking mojitos and smoking cigars.  I feel like a Kennedy!

 

This parade or whatever started and all these street dancers were coming down the road on stilts.  There was music playing and I was all, Bah dah bah bah bah.  Bah dah boom boom boom.  I was getting into it and then I saw him again, coming down the road, looking for me.

 

How did he track me here? 

 

I escaped just in time.  I donít think he spotted me. 

 

Iím sending a pic taken while I was still having a good time.

 

Iím on the run again!

 

God is with you,

 

Pumpkinhead

 

 


 

From: Pumpkinhead
Sent: Friday, December 09, 2011
To: Wendy
Subject: In the land of glass candy

 

Hola, Wendy,

 

Coming to you live and in living color from the greatest place on earth: the slums outside of Mexico City!

 

I tried to get in to see Fidel Castro and request asylum or an assault rifle, but I couldnít get past the front door, so I hopped a flight to Mexico.

 

Not twenty minutes after I land, I run into a drug connection of mine.  Pacoís one of my weed suppliers.  So Iím all, like, ďŅPablo, quť tal

 

He acts like he doesnít recognize me.  So I grab him by his shirt and jack him against a wall and, as calmly as I can, explain my situation and ask for help.

 

Picoís not only not into helping me, he still professes he doesnít know who I am.  Unhappy with this, I punched him in the gut and told him I would no longer be a customer of his.

 

Iím hiding out in a slum.  Well, I was, but right after I had my picture taken, he came after me again.  I think heís timing it right when Iím most vulnerableówhen my soul is taken from me by the camera.

 

Heís getting more brazen.

 

I have to deal with him, and soon.

 

Grace and blessings on your path,

 

Pumpkinhead

 

 


 

From: Pumpkinhead
Sent: Saturday, December 10, 2011
To: Wendy
Subject: Texas is Big

 

Howdy, Wendy!

 

Yee-haw from the Lone Star State!  I crossed the border with the help of a Coyote during the wee hours.  When he tried to double the price he quoted for getting me across, I killed him.  Left him in no-manís land.

 

I hitchhiked to San Antonio to visit the Alamo and guess who followed me thereÖ  Yeah, thatís right.  I knew heíd be there, but it was not to be my last stand.  I got out of there lickity split and evaded his attack.  Heís getting more brazen.  Heís ready to strike.

 

But so am I.  I have a plan.

 

Hereís a nice picture for you from the courtyard, or whatever it is, of the Alamo.

 

Harm none,

 

Pumpkinhead

 

 


 

From: Pumpkinhead
Sent: Sunday, December 11, 2011
To: Wendy
Subject: Union, Justice, Confidence

 

Crawdaddy Wendy,

 

Iím in NawlinsÖand I feel positively wonderful.

 

Let me set the scene for you.  Iím on Bourbon Street gettingÖjust totally fucking lit, and Iíve got a shit-ton of beads and Iím passing them out when chicks flash their bra stuffers at me.  And, in addition to the hurricanes Iím drinking, Iím popping Ritalin like theyíre G.D. gummy bears.

 

Then, out of nowhere, Pedobear jumps off this float ofÖI donít know what the float was of.  But Pedobear has this sword in his hand and heís swinging it at me, trying to chop my head off, carve me up like a...well, whatever.

 

But, I told you I had a plan.  Instead of retreating from him, I stepped inside his perimeter, effectively negating his attack with the sword.  I pulled my Derringer from my purple pants and held it under his chin.  I coolly said, ďIt looks like rain,Ē and pulled the trigger.  His brains and bits of skull exploded out the top of his head and fell to the ground in barely audible splatters.  I kicked his carcass into the gutter and popped another Ritalin.  Then I was all, ďShow me your midget earmuffs!Ē to this one chick.  And she did!

 

It was a good day.

 

Plus, children are just a little safer now because of me.  Iím like Chris Hansen.

 

Iím sending you a pic from later in the evening, after the partying was over and the streets were being cleaned up.  You know the funniest part?ÖIt did start to rain.

 

May this day offer you just what you need in each unfolding moment,

 

Pumpkinhead

 

PS: I donít know who that guy is.  Looks like McCracken.

 

 


 

From: Pumpkinhead
Sent: Monday, December 12, 2011
To: Wendy
Subject: Greenbow, AlaBAMA!

 

Heeeeey, Wendy!

 

I donít want you to be jealousÖbut Iím visiting Gulf Shores in Alabama.

 

You know, I deserve it after being stalked and plotted against for all that time.  And because Iíve done the world a real service.

 

Itís weird to think that Iím probably wanted by the cops.  I guess I did break my parole.

 

No matter; cops couldnít catch a cold!  They couldnít catch the clap in a whorehouse.  They couldnít find their dicks with both hands.  Haha!

 

Iíve met a lot of really nice people here.  Iím sending a picture of a group that Iíve been spending some time with.  I can see why you come down here every year.

 

I love it down here!

 

Grace abounds,

 

Pumpkinhead

 

 


 

From: Pumpkinhead
Sent: Tuesday, December 13, 2011
To: Wendy
Subject: Other arms reach out to me. Other eyes smile tenderly. Still in peaceful dreams I see. The road leads back to you.

 

My dear, sweet Wendy,

 

I have left the gentle embrace of the ocean, and those ladies, and have come a little north to the great state of Georgia.

 

I went on a tour of a peach orchard.  I sent a picture for your enjoyment. 

 

It was quite boring, but I did have time to think and put some pieces of the past couple weeks togetherÖ

 

It was you the whole time.  First it was you that put me away.  Then it was you who hired that pervert to stalk and kill me.  But you didnít count on two things.

 

  1. 1. You did not realize how daft Pedobear truly was.

  2. 2. You did not take into account how all the drugs Iíve done have made me super-intelligent and -strong and -wily.

 

God be with you,

 

Pumpkinhead

 

PS: Did you know that Georgia produces over 130 million pounds of peaches a year?  I did not.

 

 


 

From: Pumpkinhead
Sent: Wednesday, December 14, 2011
To: John Lemut
Subject: Pardon me, boy...

 

Greetings, Wendy,

 

This lovely day finds me in the state of Tennessee.  I have booked a room aboard the Delta Queen, a historic steamboat docked in Chattanooga. 

 

Iíve been catching up on my sleep, but I did take a walk on the deck of the boat and had my picture taken.

 

Iíve been wondering how youíll receive me when, at last, we meet again.  Iím sure you have been, too.

 

Wishing you love, light, and blessings always,

 

Pumpkinhead

 

PS: Did you know that Tennessee has more than 3800 known caves?

 

 


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Copyright © 2011 John Lemut