Masked Misfits – Waylon the Pumpkin Punk
Original resin figure. SLA printed/ Hand painted. 4 inches tall.
Case File: Waylon- The Pumpkin Punk
Waylon Crisp was an average student and a devoted athlete. Beneath his respectable reputation, however, he shared a love of mischief with his brothers, Earl and Marvin.
Every Halloween, the trio would steal jack-o'-lanterns from around the neighborhood and carve them into makeshift masks. Wearing their pumpkin disguises, they roamed the streets launching fireworks, throwing toilet paper, and causing chaos wherever they went.
The neighborhood knew them only as The Pumpkin Punks.
One Halloween night, Waylon found himself trailing behind his brothers.
As he walked, a whisper echoed from between two dilapidated houses.
"Waylon..."
The boy stopped.
Who could possibly know his name? The brothers had sworn never to reveal their identities. Their reputation had become legendary among local residents, and secrecy was everything.
Shrugging it off, Waylon continued walking.
Then the voice returned.
Deeper.
Louder.
"Waylon..."
This time he froze.
He searched the darkness but found nothing.
Just as he prepared to continue, a piercing shriek rang through his mind and a cloud of damp green smoke rushed toward him.
"Waylon the Pumpkin Punk!" the voice thundered. "You have broken a Law of Halloween. How do you plead?"
Terrified, Waylon bolted toward his brothers.
A tendril of smoke wrapped around his ankle.
"How do you plead?!"
Waylon fought with every ounce of strength he possessed. He clawed at the pavement and pulled himself forward, but the Spirit of Halloween was far stronger. It toyed with him, offering moments of false hope before dragging him deeper into the swirling fog.
Waylon screamed for help.
His brothers, only feet away, turned around.
But they saw nothing except a faint trace of green mist disappearing into the night.
"Wayl?" Earl called nervously.
"WAYL?"
Marvin rolled his eyes.
"He's just messin' with us. Let's go."
"Typical Waylon."
Deep within the darkness, the voice spoke one final judgment.
"Waylon Crisp, you have broken a cardinal Law of Halloween. I find you guilty. Your penance shall be to roam the streets for eternity—every Halloween night—a crusader of chaos. A Pumpkin Punk forever."
Waylon Crisp was never seen again.
Yet every Halloween night, witnesses report sightings of a boy in tattered clothing with a burning jack-o'-lantern for a head.
Cremated Plastic Toys
Hand-crafted collectibles inspired by horror, Halloween, and pop culture miniatures.
