Carver set the real witch's broom near the shop door, just out of easy line of sight, before stepping into the store. 

"Welcome to the W--wwwwhat happened to you?" Agatha stared. Pumpkin guts dangled over Carver's head, cage, and vines. She also had a large bit of dark fabric slung over one shoulder; the exact color and pattern were indistinguishable beneath an even worse mess of juice and guts.

"I need a bottle of my dad's special all-purpose detergent. I know he usually reserves it for particularly sticky chemical explosions, but I don't think the normal stuff will be enough for this," Carver said with a grin.

"What did you [i]do[/i]?" The witch came out from around the counter to take the... hoodie, apparently, from Carver to examine. She blinked when she straightened it out and recognized whose it was.

"I won a food fight," came the cackled response.

"I hate to imagine what the area looks like where this food fight took place..." Agatha continued staring at the mess all over the piece of clothing.

Carver snorted. "Not too bad, actually. I didn't miss a shot. Barrel's cleaning up his part, but he only has the one top, so I guess I have to wash it for him now."