Clementines
I am a gambling man. I live
life on the edge. I drive fast, jump out of planes, and fight in
underground kickboxing tournaments. So when I sit down to eat some fruit do
I take the easy way out and take a tasty apple or banana? No way brother I
live life on the edge, I ride into the danger zone, I eat Clementines,
natures sweet temptation. If you don’t know what a Clementine is then it
must be because you aren’t man enough for them. A short history of what I
call "the danger fruit". They come from Spain and look like oranges. You
tear the skin off and they are sliced into easy to eat triangles. You might
think that being presliced would make them a favorite among English dandies
but here's the kicker: Clementines taste good only about 45% of the time. The rest of the time they are the most disgusting food on the planet. I
have seen barbarians take a bite out of a Clementine and break into tears. The worst part is that there is no way to tell if its good or not. You grab
a banana and see that its brown you know that you’re in for a bad ride. Clementines though all look the same. The only way to tell if its good is
to eat a piece, and afterwards if you are not covered in vomit and feces
congratulations that was a good one. What makes a man take such risks? Why do some feel compelled, obligated even to eat a Clementines? Because the rewards are greater then the risks. To taste a good one is on par with meeting Jesus himself, if Jesus was a sexy lady, and by "meet" I meant "fuck". Oh yes as I sit here, thinking of the sweet, juicy, fruitful pleasures of a Clementine I feel a lump rising in my throat, and another lump rising IN MY PANTS.
Now your probably thinking to yourself "Hey I’m gonna go to the local Super Mart by a few and see what happens." Well let me tell you brother, I have seen what happens to people who think they are man enough for Satan’s Pineapple. I have seen hundreds of people killed because they didn’t believe in the risks associated with this fruit. I was at Evel Knievel’s house the other day and he said he wanted to try a Clementine. I told him there was a good chance that one bit would fuck him up good, but the Motor City Madman was not to be swayed. So I handed him one and he ate it in all one bite, that psycho didn’t even bother peeling it. He just popped it into his mouth, and he immediately died. I was so shocked that I dropped to my knees and raised my arms defiantly in the air and screamed NOOOOO but it was to late, I couldn’t save him. The fruit known as "The Devil’s Papaya" had killed my best friend.