Massacred all of them – the big ones, the fat ones, the small ones; chop-chopped all of them to pieces, their blood splattered all over the wall Tarantino-style. I lacerated them, mutilated them. I let out a madman guffaw. They pleaded for me to stop. I stayed unfazed. I just had to butcher them all! Even the…
…bombs? Oopsie. Game over. Try again.
My dear readers,
In case you’re wondering, I have been taking my frustrations with writing out on fruits, poor innocent fruits, these days.
Have faith. Talk to ya soon.