Friday afternoon brought a lovely autumnal display: skies bright and clear, air crispy cool, copper leaves stirring in the breeze. A perfect day to destroy God’s creations.
At high noon, the Boston University physics department put on the seventh annual Pumpkin Drop at the Metcalf Science Center Plaza.
Physics professor Rob Carey, the Grand Executioner, stood five stories above a chilly crowd hungry for the splatter of pumpkin flesh. Clad in black robe and mask, he oversaw the heartless slaughter of 42 innocent pumpkins, some of whom were only children when plucked from the vine.
“In the trade, they call me ‘Killer,’ ” said Carey.
Why perform this macabre exhibition? And in public no less, where the young could witness the carnage and forever be scarred?
Said Professor Andrew Duffy, “We’re just trying to prove gravity’s still working.” In the author’s opinion, scientific reassurance is no excuse for cold-blooded murder of gourd-like squashes. “We also want to show that physics is fun and that we in the physics department let our hair down every once in a while.”
The most memorable moment of the event began as the largest pumpkin, an 89-pound behemoth, inched towards the edge of the Metcalf Science Center. A tingling silence gripped the crowd. The monstrosity seemed to fall in slow motion. As it hit the ground, its entrails suddenly decorated the plastic tarp that had been laid on the pavement to collect the torn-asunder victims. The crowd gathered around immediately to examine the pulpy carcass with their own eyes.
The drop of the 89-pounder signified the continuation of a chilling tradition the department engages in year after year: the sacrificing of pumpkins who have weight problems. According to Carey, the largest pumpkin they have put to death was somewhere between 150 and 200 pounds.
But the Physics Department didn’t stop at dropping pumpkins, for what celebration of butchery could be complete without a costume contest? Many a spectator showed up clothed in such disguises as a pumpkin (a dangerous choice at this particular event), Alex DeLarge, and Charlie Sheen—who took third place. The winner of the contest was dressed as a gorilla in a top hat.
Though the practices of the Pumpkin Drop are dark, the future is bright. Said Carey, “There’s talk of using a trebuchet to launch pumpkins off the roof, or maybe toss them across the street and splatter our rivals over at SMG. There are no solid plans yet, because safety is the highest consideration.”
Despite its grisly spilling of goop and seeds, the Pumpkin Drop was a crowd pleaser. Said spectator Chris Fisher (CAS, ’13), “I now have a renewed faith in Newton’s laws.”
As this author left the scene of the massacre, the ground reeking with cold orange gore, I said a silent prayer for the pumpkins who lost their lives that day. May they live forever in our hearts.
