Moe Speaks: The Death of Punkin

Mom brought me a new toy today. She said his name was Punkin, because, well, because he was a stuffed pumpkin.

I didn't really mean to kill him right off, but he opened up to my teeth really quickly. From there it was a short trip to de-stuffing and de-squeaking him, and before I knew it he was just a shell of his former self. 

Really though--even half way torn open and without any stuffing--he wasn't in REALLY bad shape until Porter took over. She completely shreded his green, rope handle, and she totally mauled his face.

Poor Punkin! May he rest in peace.