读后续写（满分25分）Pumpkin(南瓜) carving at Halloween is a family tradition. We visit a local farm every Octob

I was stuck for five or six minutes though it felt much longer. How I wished I had not acted so foolishly, making myself a laughing stock of my family! I could well imagine how they would look when my head come out. Seeing my repeated efforts but in vain, Jason rushed out of the room and turned to Dad for help. Seeing me caught in such a situation, Dad was unexpectedly surprised, but soon surprise transformed into laughter. He tried my approaches, and eventually managed to gt my head out by carefully cutting the pumpkin open with a knife. Just when I felt relieved to be freed form the pumpkin, I suddenly found that mon should be shooting all that happened to me and would upload it online.
That video was posted online the Monday before Halloween. It went viral immediately. Just within hours, hundreds of likes and funny comments appeared, showing their enthusiasm. Constant streams of curious people even came by to take photos with us and my prized pumpkin. Json was really excited and Mon was glad that her video should become such a hit and thus grew even crazier about shooting videos. But for me, though a little embarrassed, I soon totally forgot the “unforgettable” incident and set out for the trick-or treating. I would like to take it as a treat to add joy and un to this festive Halloween for everyone.
 
原作续写：
I was stuck for five or six minutes though it felt much longer. The video cuts before my rescue—Dad got me to push my head farther into the pumpkin so Mom could reach in and undo the rubber band round my ponytail. I emerged with squash-conditioned hair, a sore chin and my nose plugged with pulp (糊状物).
   That Facebook video went up the Monday before Halloween, and by the end of that day it had over 1,000 views. People asked Mon to put it on You Tube, and by Wednesday morning we were getting 5am calls for TV breakfast shows and then the international media--- the video started racking up hundreds of thousands of views. When I went on a youth camp, I was recognized by children I’ve never net. The pumpkin also became a minor celebrity. Passers-by and trick-or-treaters would knock and ask, “which is Rachel’s pumpkin?” before taking selfies with it. Although our pumpkin carving the following year was a more sedate affair, I wouldn’t say I learned my lesson. A few months later I squeezed myself into a laundry basket during a game of hide-and-seek and became hopelessly jammed. It was Dad who responded to my cries for help.