[Ripley nods slowly, digesting this information. She lets out a soft, tired noise, shaking her head.]

Some guy's sick idea of a prank, that's what I'm thinking.

[Because that's the one that provides the most amount of comfort to her. Even if it doesn't explain everything. After a brief pause, she skirts towards the pumpkin and pushes it off the stand, watching it fall. It cracks against the ground, spilling its seeds and pulp on the grass.]

Who the hell runs this stand, anyways? I have a bone to pick with them.