Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's supposed to be a friendly competition. Best pumpkin carver wins, simple as that. Stephen thought it'd make a nice family tradition. Little did he know, a family like his couldn't have friendly competitions. 

He rubs a hand on his face.

Pumpkin pulp was blasted onto the walls, stuck to the floor, flying in the air and into shouting faces. He sees the cloak in the scene, nearly groaning aloud at having to wash it later. Tony catches his exasperated face, and a sly grin appears. 

The slimy, orange substance hits his face. 

"That's it!" he exclaims, and joins in.