Melted pumpkin had to be a bitch to clean up, though, right?

Whatever, Barry, it was your mess.

Annie glowed brighter, shooting off a succession of blasts at the pile of pumpkin goo, each making a sort of hollow-aired whump sound.

Normally, she'd have drained whatever source she was pulling from by now, but the generator did indeed seem able to handle it. So, she decided to press her luck and pull all she could from it, lighting up in the middle of the warehouse like a star.

Her Supe name was one of the better ones for a reason.