A TRUE HORRIFYING HALLOWEEN IN THE GOOMOO HOUSE!

It was Halloween 2024. I, Jake, had somehow managed to get time off work for the second year in a row, a true miracle of the season! That meant I could fully enjoy Bec’s favourite time of year (well, second favourite… nothing beats her birthday, of course).

The day had gone somewhat smoothly. Becs had recently closed down the physical Goomoo shop, so we needed a good reason to celebrate. Halloween was the perfect excuse for a little spooky joy. The plan was simple: I’d make a nice stir fry, Becs would grab some wine, and we’d have Hocus Pocus on full blast while we enjoyed a cosy evening in. What could possibly go wrong?

Famous last words.

It seemed the spirits of fate had other plans for our night of relaxation. The first omen came in the form of my stir fry, an underwhelming, flavourless tragedy. A bit of a culinary ghost, you might say. Not ideal, but hey, we could bounce back from a disappointing stir fry, right?

Wrong.

Just as I was reflecting on my mediocre meal, I caught a whiff of something sinister. Burning. The unmistakable smell of “uh oh.” I paused. I’d only used one pan, so what on earth was burning?

WELL. Turns out, yours truly, Mr. Fire Hazard 2024, had left the hob on. Apparently, my subconscious wanted to bring a bit of live fire horror to the evening. But that wasn’t even the true villain of the story. Oh no. Because, as if we were performing some twisted domestic comedy act, Becs had placed one of our plastic chopping boards directly on top of the still-hot hob.

(At this point, I should mention that it’s an induction stove on low heat, so there was no tell-tale glow of doom.)

Within seconds, the corner of the chopping board began to melt. Naturally, I did what any rational person would do in a mild panic, I grabbed it. And that, my friends, is how I learned that melted plastic is surprisingly stringy. One of those molten strings wrapped around my hand like some sort of cursed Halloween ribbon, so now I’m dancing around the kitchen with a half-melted board and a mildly burned hand, while Becs frantically tries to scrub the cooling remains off the hob before it turns into modern art.

It was chaos.
Hocus Pocus was abandoned. The house smelled like regret and melted IKEA dreams.

So this year, we’ve decided not to tempt the spirits (or the smoke alarm). We’re ordering food. No hob, no pan, no problem.

Moral of the story? If your Halloween plans involve food and wine, maybe leave the “fire element” out of it.

Written By

The Fire Loving, Stirfry Monster Chef,

Jake