People gawped from their porches and lawns that morning at the pumpkin-headed lass that sauntered in topless, bare-assed triumph. The schlong wielders from the previous night absconded with her naughty nurse costume but left her mobile and a “thank you” note.

How sweet.

The giant, bottomless pumpkin at least covered her giggly visage. Being an unscheduled cum dumpster at the Halloween party proved a better plot twist than that one Brian Singer flick. More distracting than the crusty reminders along her inner thighs, however, was her menstrual app’s alert of her ovulation’s commencement.

“Fuck!”