Kitchen Cruelty

KC Seven: Pomegranate

A/N: I'm on a writing rampage, am I not? B) Here's another part of KC. I think this'll have to be the last fruit chappie though, so enjoy it (:

 -Favourite character, part, line, whatever(:

Read, enjoy, comment, vote<##

______________________________________________________________________________ 

Part Seven

•Pomegranate•

          Passion fruits are annoying little creatures. Really they are. Thinking that they’re, to quote, ‘the pips, haha, get it? The pips? Instead of, like, the pits? Because we have pips? Like, seeds? Because we’re so freaking awesome?’ They should never have been planted.

          Ever.  

          They’ve been a terribly useless addition to the world. So pointless. I mean, clearly, they’re just wannabe pomegranates. It’s so blatantly obvious, I really don’t know why the humans haven’t realised it.

          To be honest, I think that they’re just mutated pomegranates. Some idiot humans probably just stole a couple of pomegranate seeds from my ancestors and then injected them with god knows what with a side of some of those ‘annoying and useless boosters’ (are those the vitamin Cs? Or maybe riboflavin? Wait, no, I have those. Maybe it’s vitamin A... I really should’ve paid more attention to the scholars back at the farm when I was a child).

Honestly. They are simply just the most terrible fruit there is, added to the fact that they’re just rip off pomegranates. I can understand and appreciate that we pomegranates are mighty, but there’s no need to go replicating us. It’s as if they’re our clones.

But evil.

          “Gosh, I wish I could go back to the days when passion fruit were unheard of. Or at least if my ancestors had discovered our mighty powers back then,” I huff aloud.

          “Umps, what pills are you on?” a neighbouring fruit asks in a lazy groan.

Umps? What kind of a thing is that to call someone? Umps? Is that youngling being serious? First Umps, and then the pills. Really, that is just horrid, and it makes the utmost least sense of anything I’ve ever heard in my long days of living. I am a fruit. And we fruits don’t get drugs in here. Or any other pills, for that matter. Except maybe for that suspicious looking salad a few weeks back... Thank goodness that terrible, terrible influence is out of here. It was corrupting the innocence of some of the fruits in here, especially that grape. BobTim I think his name was?

But really, it’s disgusting. The lack of respect that the young ones have for their elders these days is really dreadful. Utterly distasteful. Ignoring the rude youngster, I demonstrate my powers. “Pew! Pew pew!” I cry; strengthening my powers and surely enough, I feel a couple of my seeds around my internals rattle about, shooting at the inside of my dark skin.

“This old timer’s still got it in him,” I speak huskily – seductively. I can hear the romanced sighs of the females around me. Although none of them could ever match up to my Julie. My amazing Julie. Who was separated from me only a week after we met. But that was all the time it took for us to fall in love. That was by far, the best week of my life. I treasure every moment of it. For it truly was love at first sight. But since she’s been gone, I can never love again.

          “Oh Julie. Oh my darling Julie. How I miss you. The lights can never shine as bright as your luscious skin did. Your luxurious peel. Your amazing stub. Oh Julie dear, I miss you every second my life goes on,” I speak remorsefully but loudly, proud of my emotions of love.

          “Here he goes again,” the same fruit from before mutters.

          “Oh Julie, darling!” I continue proudly, “Oh how I love you like I love my powers! My love for you will never weaken! My seeds are eternally yours, my dear. My insides beg every waking moment, for me to be with you once more, my love.”

          In a hushed whisper, I conclude, “I love you, my darling Julie.”

          The rude, young fruit groans and begins to shout at me, cursing like a sailor when the fridge door is abruptly opened. He instantly falls silent and a certain terror fills the area.

          “I wonder what fruit I’ll find for breakfast today,” a young voice sings chirpily. That, is the kind of youth I don’t mind. A kind, polite, respectf-

          “Ack. What hole did that climb out of,” the voice moans disgustedly, cutting off my train of thought. A train of thought which I will more than gladly take back, I think with a ‘humph’.

          Another rude, disrespectful youth. The horrors that these recent days bring me. “That is gross. Seriously. Like G-R-O-S-S. Disgusting. Yuck. It’s even got mould!” the young human cries in disdain.

          Don’t call my beard mould, you ignorant child. It’s a beard, and it’s very becoming.

          The youth’s hand grabs me roughly out of the fridge. Youths in my day had so much more respect, it’s hard to believe that we belong to the same era! Goodness.

          “Aw, man, that’s so nasty,” a new voice comments in the same tone as the previous. Another disrespectful.

          “Hah, you’re not even the one holding it and you’re saying that,” the first youth whines. “It feels like it’s about to melt in my hands, it’s so squishy.”

          I’m ripened with age, thank you very much. Don’t call me fat, you brainless monkey.

          “God, that thing must’ve been in there for like half a year,” the second snorts. Oh, that is it. I didn’t ever want to use my attack on anything living, but you have just pushed all my buttons, I think enraged at the humans.

          “Fear me,” I growl. “Pew! Pew pew! Pew pew pew pew pew!” My internals go ballistic, seeds flying everywhere and I

          “Ah gross, this has got bugs in it,” the first shrieks in disgust. I don’t have bugs! Those are my seeds, you imbecile! “Well. Off to the bin with this thing.”

          “Off it goes,” the second agrees. “Chuck it.”

          “Pew! Pew pew pew! Pew! Pew pew! Pewpewpewpewpewpew!” I roar angrily. How dare they think of binning me! As if I’m a diseased, disgusting thing. Utterly disrespectful.

          I continue to shoot at the human even as I fall, spiralling to my doom at the bottom of the bin, where my life is ended with a dissatisfying squelch.