The Bell-Pepper

I ran down to the local City-Market this evening for a bag of charcoal, and as I approached the check-out lane I was greeted by a single Bell-Pepper. It was perched upon the little fridge where they keep drinks, just sitting there staring at me like “sup?”

I thought, “Don’t ‘sup’ me Bell-Pepper, you don’t fucking belong here among these sugar saturated sodas, bottle waters, and fruit juices. You’re a Bell-Pepper, and Bell-Peppers are disgusting.”

I understand you may thinks that’s an awful hard stance to take on the Bell-Pepper, but I don’t give a shit. The Bell-Pepper will never fit in with beverages. When’s the last time you enjoyed a cool refreshing glass of Bell-Pepper juice? Never, that’s when. So shut your whore mouth, and quit thinking shit opposing my point of view. You’re just making yourself look stupid.

Perhaps, the Bell-Pepper was exiled by the Bell-Pepper society. Perhaps, he had a torrid affair with a Peblano and most Bell-Peppers are, let’s say, old fashioned and don’t agree with inter-pepper relationships. So, the Bell-Pepper decided to take to the road with his Peblano lover. See the world, and experience the magic it has to offer with his soul mate. They slipped away and under the plastic-bag dispenser made their plans. They would escape the bigotry of the antiquated views of their pepper peers, and find happiness in another aisle far away.

However, that night as the Bell-Pepper cautiously tossed almonds at the Peblano’s bin, his dreams, his plans for the future, everything he had come to live for were destroyed. It was as if his little pepper heart were thrown in a Ronco food processor and puréed into a delicious salsa to be enjoyed with nachos during the a UFC pay-per-view. The beautiful Peblano appeared from the bin’s rim, tears in her eyes, and unable to look at the poor Bell-Pepper. She would not be coming.

The distraught Bell-Pepper meandered across the white tiles, no purpose left, no friends, no where left to turn.  All was lost. He looked up towards the fluorescent lights.

“WHHHHYYYYYY. Why hast thou forsaken me!?”

Then the fridge caught his eye; the ledge beckoning him, offering resolution. He clambered his way up its side somehow, not easily seeing as how peppers have no limbs, unless you count the stem, but I don’t.

Perched upon the ledge looking down at the tile floor many feet below he inhaled deep. He was afraid. He knew not what awaited him on the other side of splatterdom. He wasn’t sure he had the seeds to find out. That’s where I entered the story, and rolled him off.

Ha, ha fucking pepper. You didn’t deserve to live anyways. You were an outcast, exiled by your own people, abandoned by the only pepper you ever loved. You were a Bell-Pepper, and Bell-Peppers are disgusting. I hope you survived the fall, only to be crushed under the wheel of a shopping cart… or better yet the wheel of one of the fat-people buggies, as the beverages cheered from the shining glass home. Ha, you thought they would take pity on you? You were evicted from a circle of bums around a trashcan fire, and you had the gall to try and crash on the Queen’s couch? You deserve your foul fate.