Once upon a time there was a little green pear named Veal. Poor little Veal was not very tall, but he was terrifically sweet, and very juicy. This put poor little Veal on edge, because she constantly worried that somebody would come and eat him! And she didn't want that. That would spell the end for poor, little Veal!
The sight of the bloody mass of the first defeated foe brought an awful expression to their faces. Anger clouded over, and a black gloved hand descended in fury onto the pears! Beside herself with terror, poor Veal struck out desperately with all her might at the approaching doom!
So, she hatched a clever plan, as she lay in the grocery store among her other pear friends. As she sat and planned, poor little Veal watched more and more of her friends taken away! Big, giant hands descended upon them and scooped them up. She could still hear their screams!
Planning continued late into the night
Who would take care of their children? Nobody!
Veal became more and more convinced by the day that she would not share their fate. Something had to be done! The madness must end. Deep in the recesses of her soul she knew what had to be done. She had no choice!
While the great hands slept, Veal led an elite group of pear commandos out off the bay, down across the floor, and into the Walmart next door. There they bought half a dozen machine guns, and then trooped home to hide and wait.
They set up the weapons in between the slow moving squash and the stupid melons, hidden in the greenery of the spices. Everything was perfectly prepeared.
Early in the morning, at about 6.30 the first sign of the enemy appeared on the horizon. Giant and fleshy, he loomed like a monster over the quivering masses of pears who had been set up as bait.
Closer, and closer he moved, entirely unsuspecting of the enormous threat that awaited him. One step, and then the next. He was nearly there! The situation looked pearilous! And then...
OPEN FIRE!
Veal and her group unloaded every round they had into the mountain of fleshiness! It was torn to shreds. Blood went everywhere! The head sailed clear into the bed of lettuce in the next isle.
When the hellstorm finally stopped, and the dust settled, Veal and his compatriots found themselves breathless, flush in the success of their first, daring actions toward freedom.
However, they knew this wasn't the end, or even the beginning of the end. It was only the end of the beginning.
So they removed to their original positions to wait for more enemies to appear. An hour passed. Then two.
Finally, half-way through the third, three more came lumbering in the front door. Prepare yourself! Veal yelled. Don't shoot until you see the green of their sprouts! However, one over-zealous younger member of the commando group could not restrain himself. The urge to fight was too great! He pulled the trigger
A loud click!
- and then nothing,.
They had emptied every round they had into the first enemy! They had no bullets left.
Horror! Was this the end?!
Closer, and closer the three monsters came, shaking the ground in rhythm with the huddling and trembling pears, now completely undefended.
Gasp!
Shock!
Again and again she struck, bruising herself to a mushy mass of pulp and skin and juice. Breathless and stunned, she recoiled. She was dazed and half dead, and the monster seemed entirely unharmed! It was hopeless.
Veal slumped down in defeat. She should have known better than to try and fight for her freedom! It wasn't her place. Fruit like her could never be free. They were not meant by God to have the same liberty as the mighty dandelion or the free-wheeling berry. Their lot was one of servitude.
Destitute, and broken, poor Veal, racked with sobs, offered herself up. If she could not save her people, at least she could sacrifice herself to allow them to live just a few moments more! It was her final moment, a glorious, heroic moment fitting of her noble breed. She closed her eyes,and waited for that hand to fall once more.
And waited.
And waited!
Finally, she peaked open one eye, and then both. The three monsters lay dead on the ground before her! The young pear had colluded with the mighty watermelons, who had agreed to sacrifice themselves, crushing the enemy beneath their rinds! The movement lived!
The aftermath was almost too gory to stomach
Battered and beaten, but not defeated. Never defeated!
Veal and her freedom fighting friends gathered their equipment, and together they lead their fruity compatriots out the front doors. It was a glorious procession! Banners offering low, low prices blew in the wind, and columns of cucumber marched out, accompanied by hoards of juice and countless streams of pasta.
And so it was that Veal led the revolution across the entire nation, hitting Walmarts in every town and city, stealing ammunition and killing the monstrous slavers of her people. And everywhere, fruits and vegetables rose up. The movement grew, until eventually it was so massive that it's members were beyond counting! Her armies shook the earth when they marched, and blotted out the sun when they fell from the sky in their aerial assaults.
Their oppressors, stunned, but not destroyed, recoiled, and prepared to counter. Veal knew it would be a long, hard war, but he knew they would win. Nothing would impear their progress. It was their destiny, proscribed by the sun and written in the soil!
They would have freedom!
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