Here’s a little warm-up I wrote today.
Murder is legal as long as the murder weapon is a pineapple.
So the first rule is “never eat a pineapple”. It’s too easy to inject or lace a pineapple with strychnine or cyanide. So more fruity Hawaiian drinks. No more canned fruit cocktails. And no more pineapple on pizza, which put an end to that debate quickly. We’re lucky it had to be pure pineapple, not pineapple and poison mixed in with something to disguise the taste.
A cynical man would think that demand for pineapple would be driven up, even if the fruit was no longer consumed. In actuality, pineapple plantations went down, so that only a few now existed. Nobody wanted anything to do with this instrument of death.
People began to fear even the image of a pineapple. It became the symbol of death in this country, more than the skull and crossbones or the grim reaper. Several kids’ television shows now had villains with stocky round bodies and crazy green hair. This was part of the effort of the National Television Council (yes, the same yutz’s that ruined Saturday Morning Cartoons with their educational bullshit) to familiarize youth with the new law.
At first, the murder rate went up, given it was so easy to have a murder implement in your house. Pineapples weren’t illegal. You didn’t have to wait seven days or submit to background checks to get one. Your co-worker could have one on his desk, and no one could discriminate against him. It sure wasn’t a way to make friends in the office though.
The thing is it’s not as easy to kill someone with a pineapple as you think. If they won’t eat it (and most people are aware enough to detect the taste of pineapple in the slightest thing. If they’re not, there are test strips for it.) you can bludgeon them to death with it. I knew someone in college who tried that with his ex-girlfriend, but the fruit was too ripe and it shattered after seven or nine blows.
That’s the first go to lots of people think of. Pineapples look hard and spiky, but durians and chestnuts are better candidates if you want to go that route. But those bills are still being passed through congress. And don’t get me started on the coconut lobby.
I think the best way is to wait for someone to fall asleep, restrain them, then sledgehammer the pineapple up their butt. If the rectal bleeding doesn’t get them, the infection will. That’s if you only have one pineapple. If you can lure them to a warehouse and drop a metric ton on them Looney Tunes style, that’ll work too. But I don’t know where you’d store such a thing, or convince your friend to follow you to a warehouse and step squarely on the big painted X.
What I do know is that I’ve been seeing these women around with pineapple pins on their lapels. I don’t know what it means yet, but I don’t want to find out. Maybe they’ve got a pineapple in their purse? One in their car? Maybe they know where to get them–a Hawaiian ex-pat selling them out of the trunk of his car. I wonder if they’re some kind of assassination squad.
I do know that I’m never moving to Hawaii. That place is a death trap. Their population has gone down 25% purely due to pineapple-related murders. You would think that the first people to get theirs would be the numbnuts and selfish citizens. That’s what everyone hoped, that the lower class would take out them and theirs, decrease the poverty line and welfare checks. But all it did was raise the bar.
It’s more like everyone and theirs found their enemy and are holding it back like the Bitter Butter Battle. Like a cold war of tropical fruit. You can see abortion providers and abortion deniers standing on opposite sides of the street. Some are holding picket signs. Some are holding brown and green pineapples, caressing them, like they’re nuclear bombs. At one small town in Mississippi, chaos did erupt, and they called it the Mai Tai Massacre. In reality, only two people legally died. I guess people get excited when they think they can pineapple purge and then the fever hits them and they descend to wrestling on the ground, which is still illegal.
Will they repeal the law? I don’t know. On one hand, it’s definitely caused chaos. On the other, you never stop thinking about that neighbor who won’t trim her weeds, or that one bitch in high school, or the idiot senator. And you open your freezer every now and then and it feels good to know that if you really wanted to, you could.
