David S. Pumpkins was born in a pumpkin patch in some rat infested cesspool in Hennepin County to a mother who didn't love him and a father who didn't want him. His much better looking and more well known cousin is The Great Pumpkin. One day, some ridiculously idiotic person made the horrific decision to sign David S. Pumpkins up in a junior hockey league where he learned how to skate (poorly), hit things with a stick (but not the puck, and certainly not into the goal), and talk shit with the fury of a thousand limp noodles. The only thing more abysmal than Pumpkins' "talent" on the ice is his attempt at a personality off of the ice. He is a lethal mix of boring and dimwitted that could drive even the most patient kindergarten teachers to madness. One day, a horrible team made the terrible mistake of drafting Pumpkins to play hockey for them professionally, and ever since then, he has haunted my nightmares and ruined hockey for me as a sport.

-Zayne Rotzbua