A Tragic Love

Martina the Mango

It had only been a few days since the passing of Jerome the apple, and her once sweet friend Kevin the Kiwi - and Martina the mango couldn't care less. 

Literally, zero fucks given. 

Kevin was a psycho, and Jerome was just odd. Martina however, Martina was - OH SHIT! MARTINA WAS GOING OFF.

There appeared to be a slight tinge to her once gleaming skin, oh my fucking gosh would she sue the skincare products she used. She was way to old for wrinkles, because this certainly was not mould. 

Coming to think off it, Martina had certainly had a longer life than most fruit ever had in the bowl. 

Maybe it was because the habitants of the house didn't actually eat mangos, they'd just be gifted with Martina as a present.

1) what fruitist pricks.

2) Martina was the strongest, most independent mango in the whole damn world, who the fuck thought they could use her as a gift? She wasn't a possession, oh hellll to the no. Down with the fucking patriarchy. 

But anyway, as mentioned before - Martina did not care.

She would just live out the remainder of her days reading her playboy magazine and maintaining order in the fruit bowl because she was a boss ass bitch. 

Flipping the page of her 'novel', the sound of the door opening startled Martina out of her daze. Rolling over away from the magazine, she got back into position in the fruit bowl. 

Shit. 

It was grocery day and new fruit was here. Megatronian fuck did she hate socialising, and after the drama of the past few days - Martina really couldn't be bothered.

Apparently however, this didn't matter. Nothing would anymore as the dreaded smoothie machine was brought out of the cupboard. 

Catching the gaze of panicked fruit that had been layed on the kitchen counter, Martina laughed to herself. No way was she being out in that machine, she could just sit back and enjoy the fun.

Fruit after fruit was piled into the machine, until the grocery bags and the fruit bowl (aside from Martina) was empty. 

"Mum, what about the mango?" asked the young girl who lived in the house.

"But Celestial, you don't even like mango" replied her mother.

Yeah Celestial. Shut your fucking gob before I do it for you. 

"I know ma, but me tastebuds change."

You won't have any tastebuds in a minute, you little shit.

"Okay then my darlinggggg, stick it in"

SHIT 

SHIT

SHIT

SHIT

SHITTTTT

Martina felt herself being lifted out of the fruit bowl and squished inside the smoothie machine with all of the over poor unfortunate souls.

And then, then the machine was switched on.

Martina felt her insides being ripped apart, fucking hell this was worse than being a mango on her period.

SUDDENLY, the machine lid was brought off - and the machine not turned off, Flinging Martina everywhere across the room. 

And Yes, it did disgust her that now she was intermingled with other fruits who she didn't even know.

For pips sake she was such a hoe. 

But that didn't matter now, she was dead - The fruit bowl finally empty.

A/N

oh my gosh this is the end. what a thrilling ride. thank you for sticking with Jerome, Kevin and Martina :( I know it's a load of waffle, but waffling is what I need at the moment. Today has honestly crashed and burned (n I'm sure y'all know how crap days like that feel like), but it's okay. Life will go on and it will get better if you believe it will. Writing about Martina's untimely end has helped me feel a tad better though, so thank you Martina. Your death did bring happiness. RIP. I will genuinely miss you. You were a nice friend to have.  Hope your afterlife is fruitful. OKay imma stop now and go and have a nice cry, because sometimes that does make everything better.

Farewell Fellow Fruitinians.