jennybean
Is this still what you're after? Okay, then. I'll play your little game. And I'll one-up you every single time. Hope you can handle the damage to your ego, because I'm relentless, and I'm done playing nice. You could have broken me. But I'm much stronger than that.
The Mango King, alongside his Guava Queen, lived happily in a castle with the Strawberry Princess and Avocado Prince. Together, they ruled their wonderful and happy fruit-world of feudalism. They were benevolent rulers, loved by all, including the lowly papaya serfs.
Despite their unpleasant smell and rotten taste, the papaya serfs, by the gracious order of the Mango King, were allowed to engage in the festivities of the kingdom's fruit-salad gatherings hosted by the royal family. Time and time again, the papayas were left alone to rot, making the cleanup exceptionally tedious, and yet, the kind-hearted king would not repeal the order that permitted their attendance. He hoped that fruitsociety would one day accept them as equals as he worked toward political reform. As a result of his efforts, the other fruits in the kingdom even came to welcome them into their exclusive blender clubs, which sought to create tasteful and diverse smoothie environments. Here, even the unsavory papayas could dance and mingle among fruits of all ranks--the banana nobles, the pear lords, and everyfruit in between--and order sugar and milk and ice cream from the bars.
The Mango King and his Guava Queen worked tediously in their attempts to establish a more egalitarian fruit-nation and relinquish the dated system of feudalism that had been established by their predecessors; fruit rights for papayas was their first step. As the kindest and wisest fruits in the fruit-nation, however, they wished to maintain their power to rule, knowing that they would not abuse it, and that they would use it instead to create an ideal world in which all fruits could work alongside each other and share in the victories of their toil.
Their intentions were untainted by evil, and to begin to work toward their goal, they knew they faced the arduous task of dispelling all preconceived notions of inherent social differences among their fruit subjects. Of course, some tasted bitter and some tasted sweet, some were berries and some were pomes, some looked shiny and some looked dull. But these did not dictate the merit of their value as fruits, and these did not dictate the contributions that they could make. They all lived in the same kingdom under the rule of the Mango King and Guava Queen. They shared the same earth. They shared the same sky. And they shared the same kitchenshelf fruit-world.
"Perhaps you were segregated before," began the Mango King in his address to the kingdom, "in the terrifying grocery stores from which you came! But here, here we seek to foster an environment of peace and equality! Here, we will work to show you that you are no less than other fruits! So, let us rid ourselves of our flawed way of thinking! Let us relinquish any thoughts of superiority so that we may work together to create our ideal kingdom, and let us transcend this cursed paradigm of feudalism and class differences! We must realize that we are all fruits together, and together we have the potential to thrive and see much greater advances! So let us end this era of oppression, let us see each other instead as brothers and sisters, recognizing that we are the same, setting aside our differences to create the greatest fruit-nation this world has seen!"
And all the fruits cheered, eager for their kingdom to thrive, knowing that with their cooperation under the rule of the strong Mango King, they could accomplish anything. So the fruits worked tediously for generations to end oppression and to clean their fruit-world of the horrors of the feudal system. And all the fruits were happy, and they thrived together as the Mango King had envisioned.
The end.
[Unfortunately for the fruits, the higher beings that ruled them ultimately dictated their fate and their position. Unbeknown to the Mango King and his fruitsociety, the higher being that governed this particular fruit kingdom happened to hate papayas, and so the fruits were right: there were inherent differences in their value as fruits, and papayas would remain the lowliest fruits in the eyes of the human. But at least they received some liberation among their fellow fruits. And they stood some chance; her lover approved of papayas. He was a much kinder higher being to his fruit-world than she was; she admired his love of all fruits. Perhaps, then, papayas couldn't be all bad. Maybe she will soften up and give them a chance....]
(There's a running joke about this between my best friend and I. Needless to say, I spent well over a minute completing the story.)
"Editorial staff, gather 'round!"
"Oh, yey!"
"Shut up, Jenny. Damn it, that means we have to work..."
"Fabio, it's not like you do anything useful anyway."
And it was always so interesting, so fun. The arguing and play-fights, the joking, the debating, coming to a consensus on our position, investigating, interviewing, writing, editing...about Russel Pearce, "anti-Western classes" and gun laws, presidential candidates, the Pledge of Allegiance, the science fair, the new school policies, the district budget...all in preparation for a new edition of the school newspaper.
Christina, this one's for you:
The marching band;
She smiled softly as her gaze fell upon the little brown bear that sat on her desk.
He made me fall for him all too well with his quick wit and clever humor, with his incredible logic and his unbelievable intelligence. Fighting it seemed pointless; he takes me places far, far away from here and he is always at my side when I call on him; all I need to do is open the pages of a book, and there he is, ready to take me away. How could I not have fallen for him? It was much too easy. Sherlock Holmes <3
My work always falls just a little short of the mark; my dad's Asian....
He found the letter he had been waiting for in his mailbox, and he tore it open hastily on his way inside, eager to read her letter. "I'm sorry I left. I'll be back soon," it said. He sighed heavily, having hoped for a more heartfelt message.
I'm not feeling particularly inspired by this word, but I suppose it's something of a fitting one for the new year; a new approach, a new path, and one that I'll follow through with. A bit of a stretch? Probably :) Anyway, I'll get somewhere this time. I may not know where I'll end up or who I'll be, but it's an exciting prospect, and I look forward to the new year. Milwordy, Project 365, and 2011: three new goals. Let's go.
She hung up the phone and contemplated whether she should slide down the hillside to avoid them. Biting her nails in nervous anticipation, knowing that there was no escape, she did all she could: sit and wait, pretending that the police weren't patrolling the area searching for her.