Pineapple. Helen sniffed, raised an eyebrow, then cast a death glare towards the departing pizza man. She had specifically stated that she wanted a meat pizza –eight meats– with not the tiniest sliver of that heinous fruit tarnishing the delectable glory.
The pizza man had failed.
How hard was it to follow an order? She had paid for the damned thing and she wanted to enjoy it. There would be no enjoying it now… unless…
Humming a soft tune beneath her breath, Helen stuffed the pizza back into the box and shut it tight, wrapping it over and over with thick, grey duct tape.
In the cupboard beside the oven was a spiky pineapple. She had been keeping it for such an occasion, but never believed it would actually ever come down to it. But this offence needed an appropriate retort, and there would be nothing retort-ier than using their own pineapple against them.
A dollop of glue atop the box. Hold the pineapple down firm. Careful not to let the spikes spike into her hand. Now the rocket launcher. Well, it wasn’t really a rocket launcher, but her brother had made it in science class years ago and she had stolen it, certain that it would be needed one day.
Today was that day.
Today is Day 480 of @mariannewest’s five-minute #freewrite! 😀 The prompt for today is — pineapple — and this is what I came up with before the eggtimer website beep-a-beeped at me.
You can find today’s challenge here:
With the pineapple prompt, the first thing I thought of the old Pineapple On Pizza Debate, and lo and behold! In this story, we have someone willing to stand up for their beliefs. ?
I love pineapple. But not on pizza. Funnily enough, I love pineapple on this Tropicana burger thing that Red Rooster used to do. No idea if they still do it, haven’t been there for ages… now I want one. Mmmmm.
The image used for today’s header is CC0 and courtesy of Pixabay!
Thanks for reading! 😀