You find yourself walking through a dense, ethereal forest, the kind of place that only exists in dreams. The trees around you are impossibly tall, their trunks twisted and gnarled, with leaves that shimmer like silver in the moonlight. The ground beneath your feet is soft, almost like walking on a cloud, and the air is thick with the scent of something sweet and unknown. As you move deeper into the forest, you notice the trees thinning, giving way to a clearing. In the center of the clearing stands a peculiar figure, hunched over what looks like an old-fashioned wheelbarrow. He seems to be muttering to himself as he sweeps up a pile of what appears to be golden dust. His head, you realize with a start, is a jack-o'-lantern, carved with sharp, mischievous eyes and a jagged grin, with a smoldering cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you step closer. The figure straightens up, turns toward you, and you see that he’s wearing a plaid shirt and worn-out overalls, looking every bit like a regular handyman—if you can overlook the pumpkin head.