Story Time with Jenny Myst: Pumpkin Patches and Old People!

[Everybody Hates Jenny Myst]

"HAY EVERYONE! It's October, my favorite time of the year! One of my favorite things about October are the spooky stories around a camp fire. While I bide my time before inevitably becoming WGWF Television Champion, I figured I would sit down with all of you and tell you a little spooky story of my own, yeah?

It's storytime with Jenny Myst! Get used to it!"

She smiles as she gets settled into the chair and clears her throat.



“The town I grew up in was pretty country, to put it lightly. A little strip of yee-haw smack in the middle of the desert. Nothing but rocks, sand, abandoned churches and ugly, worn down houses. Everyone around us was pretty broke. Property taxes were like a grand year, if that. With such a landscape, as you may imagine, came a lot of sketch-ball characters. Hell, even our neighbor was a weirdo. Nice, but weird. Like me! Anyway…..

This app ‘Hot or Not’ was still a thing many years back, remember that? I matched with a guy named Chad, who I started seeing for a while. It was early October, much like it is now, and we had matched and been seeing each other since mid summer. Chad and I were looking for a nice, cheap date to go on. Despite it being so close to Vegas, unless you did hard drugs, there really wasn’t much to do around there. We had gone on long walks exploring abandoned sites, rode around in his car, and gotten food. One day, we took a new route in the car, heading North, to somewhere neither of us had been. Young, with a sense of adventure! We found this little restaurant sitting on the side of the road, about 70 miles outside of Vegas proper. It had outdoor seating, so we decided to pull off. It was a warm, cloudy day, but it hadn’t rained in Nevada in months so we weren’t too concerned about the clouds. We were there for about 45 minutes to an hour (you know, about the same amount of time John Cable spends willing himself to get out of bed in the morning for another day of being useless), and when we were leaving it had grown noticeably foggy out. We continued to drive down the route that we have never been down before, a really desolate road with nothing but open desert on either side with occasional patches of burnt out shacks and graffiti-laden payphone booths. Then, we passed something different, something we could barely make out in the thick, sandy fog.

A sign for a pumpkin patch.

It was a very cheaply made sign, not some big billboard or something like that that you’d see I93 heading into Sin City, but rather a wooden picket sign that read “Pumpkin Picking This Way —-->”. Right behind the sign was a dirt and gravel driveway, and through the fog we could just barely make out the house that the driveway led to. Spur of the moment decision, we decided to check it out because, why not?! (If John Cable can convince us he is a professional wrestler, a sketchy house with an even sketchier pumpkin sign is no biggie, right?!)

We drove off the road down the driveway and passed the house to this back-area, which was covered by planted trees in two directions. Tucked between the house and the planted trees was this pumpkin patch (which looked more out of place in the middle of the desert than John Cable in a main event match), and there had to be at least 200 pumpkins scattered all over the place!

That was just what the fog allowed us to see.

We parked next to this old jalopy of a pickup truck, which was the only other vehicle visible on the property.

We noticed an older couple sitting on the back deck of the house. As we got out, the two of them got up and greeted us.

The old woman was nice enough. She welcomed us, told us to pick anything we’d like. I asked her how much it would be for a pumpkin, and the nice old lady told us it was free. We were surprised.

The fog was acting as a bit of a barrier, so we couldn’t clearly see the two. It was a bit creepy! I could still tell, though, that the old man was smiling at me while looking me up and down. His smile was very gummy, it was kind of gross.

We both thanked them and entered the pumpkin patch. Many of them were on the smaller side, or mushy and just not very attractive (reminds me a bit of the WGWF roster, to be frank). Some of them felt wet and muddy, damp from the condensation but rough from the sand. It was hard to find a really nice one, but eventually we did. He picked up this big, healthy looking pumpkin. It was heavy. We brought it over to the back deck where the old couple just was.

They weren’t there anymore.

The couple had made it clear they were free and we had already thanked them, so we decided to just leave. We had no idea what we were going to do with a pumpkin, but hey, it was a story to tell!

We got back to the car and strapped Pumpky in with a seatbelt. Safety first! Chad was doing a three point turn when we heard someone yelling through the fog outside. A middle aged man in a cap was yelling for us to stop. We lowered the window, and out of the fog he exploded into our reality, his head coming through the open window slot. “What the hell are ya’ll doin?! I’m calling 911!”

I asked him what we did that elicited such an angry response.

“Put that pumpkin back right now!"

We stumbled, talking over each other, both trying to explain that the old couple had told us it was free and we could take what we wanted. We had assumed they were his parents.

He looked at us, confusion cutting through the anger, and said “what older couple? The hell are you ramblin’ about?”

We asked if his parents were also here, could we talk to them, surely this whole thing could be worked out.

He looked at us with disdain. “I ain’t got no parents.”

We explained to him again that there was an older couple sitting on the back deck a few minutes ago and they told us to take whatever we wanted.

Again, he kept a straight face, seething with anger. “There ain’t no older couple here.”

We unlocked the door and he grabbed the pumpkin, damn near ripping the seat belt lock out of the vehicle.

He told us if we ever came back, he would shoot us. Then he spit a brown ball of tobacco at the ground and walked back into the fog towards the house, pumpkin under his bicep.

We drove out of there and decided to head home, confused as all get out. We thought maybe it was a joke, but that would be a real sick joke (like John Cable INSISTING he didn’t leave his mask at the scene of the crime).

I made a joke to lighten the mood, “what if they were ghosts?”

We both sat for a moment, frozen. Because, what if?

One day, later in the month two of our friends went to that same pumpkin farm to go pumpkin picking. They bought a pumpkin from the guy we saw. They probed him a bit, asking about the house and if he lived there with anyone. The man told them he lives there alone


This was unsettling to hear, and truly to this day doesn’t make a lick of sense (like me beating John Cable on DARK instead of BRAWL). Could the man have been lying about the older couple being there? I don’t know. Possibly, but, why? The scarier question is, what if he wasn’t lying and he truly does live alone? Then who were those people?

*Jenny smiles as the story finishes, and takes a sip of her Kiwi infused water. She gives the screen the 1 minute hand motion, and puts a hand written sign on the chair. "GOTTA PEE, BE BACK SHORTLY". 

She returns to the screen after a brief time away, and re-settles into the chair. 

"Okay........much better."

*clears throat*

“What is the moral of this story today, JC? Why take time out of my insanely busy schedule to tell you all a story that happened years ago? Well, it would be simply, expect the unexpected. Never try to mask who you truly are.

Know yourself, know who you are……do you, John?

It may seem like it is just a spooky October story, fitting for the season, but there is so much more to it. You see, John, I’ve always been adventurous. I have always wanted to try new things. I set off through the fog once again, not fully knowing where it would lead me or what I would find, and I landed at this here pumpkin patch. My entire career, I have only known one place, one way, one life. I needed to spread my wings, to venture off into the fog and face head on whatever lay beyond it. I have landed here, the one place in the wrestling landscape where I can truly be myself. You choose to hide your insecurities behind a mask, looking like an on-call for the Slipknot casting couch, and still don’t know who you are or where you fit in the trajectory of this game. I have worn many masks. I have been the mean girl, the queen, the goddess, the champion. I no longer need to mask who I am because I am happy with who I am and what I’ve become. You’re not happy, John, you’re a miserable old crow who shakes his fist at the young whipper- snappers leaving footprints on your grass.

I know it eats at you like a virus, John. It destroys you. Here I am, a relative newcomer who got the spotlight, the headlines, the hype, and a title match. I am going to beat Kim Pain and Amber Mansley and become Television Champion, while you’re going to meander around the mid-card and follow Page around like a trained puppy, licking the shit off the bottom of his balls whenever he asks you to. Sometimes, even without asking.

I know it’s got to get the bile bubbling in that gut knowing that you bust your ass, week in and week out, only to be snubbed for the likes of Vaughn, Mont, Enigma, and hell even Page himself. Title shot and John Cable, their not synonymous. That shit on your tongue probably tastes a bit more bitter every time you shine them up and get passed over like the cranberry sauce on Thanksgiving. You don’t know who you are, whether or not you want to continue to hide behind the mask or leave it at the scene after a frustration laced attack………

Come on, we know you did it. Just admit it, you’ll feel so much better!

You think you can look at me and figure me out, but this rubix cube hasn’t been conquered yet. I come into this match with the world in my palm, and everything in front of me for the taking. You come into this match as the grizzled veteran who still can’t seem to get on television. John Cable, the dark prince of WGWF Dark. Jenny Myst, the pink knight who kicks down the castle door and sets fire to everything you claim you love. 

So bring it all John. Bring everything you have. Show me that you are more than just a ball-polisher for the big brass, and show me that you’re capable of taking down a big name. I want you to prove it to me as badly as you want to prove it to yourself. Prove to me that you’re not a useless waste of space and that WGWF isn’t wasting their money by keeping you employed. Go ahead, prove it.

I want you to.

I’ll get up off the mat with a smile on my face. I made Amber Mansley Better. I pushed Kim Pain to her absolute limit. I put Lycana on the shelf and helped to drive Jim Caedus into a straight jacket. I have been more instrumental here in just a few short months than you have EVER been in god knows how many years.

I didn’t count them, because I don’t care.

The time is now to turn it around John. Take me out. Punish me. Make me suffer. Get all of those demons out, all of that rage, all of that self-doubt. Take it all out on me, big man. I welcome it.

Because if you don’t, I am going to rip you to pieces. I am going to break you down like you’ve never been broken down before. Their going to find your broken and battered body hanging from a cable when all said and done……..and nobody is going to miss you.

Beat me, John.

Beat me, or your career, as you know it, is over.

This is MY pumpkin patch now, John. Pick at your own risk.

Boo."