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Fox and the Sour Grape
I wrote a fanfiction don't be 2 harsh plz. It's down there V (that'a an arrow pointing down =^//.//^=
It was a cold night, but not exactly night. It was more like just before night, when you might say to your friend “Is it nighttime yet?” and they would say “No, but it’s dark.” It was cold, though. I’m not good with temperature, but it was warmer than the inside of a refrigerator, but colder than the inside of a broken refrigerator.
Fox was walking down the road. If he had pants his paws would be in his pockets. I mean his hand-paws, not his feet-paws. Feet-paws are cute though. He sighed to himself, his breath freezing in the air and turning sort of white, like the last bits of air escaping from the lungs of a woman who smokes a lot. He sighed because he was sad. He was sad because he was thinking about King, who was obviously his secret boyfriend, but they broke up a few days ago. This was making him sad, you see. As he was walking down the road, wishing he had pants to look depressed in, he passed Grape’s house.
Fox stopped walking and thinking about pants for a second to think about Grape. Grape was real pretty, he thought. She was like a sunset in candy land painted by Leonardo da Vinci, covered in glitter, framed in an ornate golden frame carved to look like angels descending from heaven just that they might gaze at this wondrous beauty, hung on a wall of solid diamond with studs of precious gemstones, just to make it 20% cooler, then Rick Griffin came in and posted up a picture of Grape over it. In that moment, Fox knew that he loved Grape with all his heart. It was a pure, deep pragmatic love for her. His heart would swell and explode if he could not hold her in his big strong arms. In a matter of moments, he knew that King was nothing but a sloppily prepared cheese stick to be the appetizer to his entrée, Grape, a perfectly cooked steak with lots of barbeque love sauce with which he would spend the rest of his dinner/life with. Now he was hungry. Hungry for love.
As everyone knows, all people are to be paired into a romantic relationship with someone at all times, no exceptions. Thus, as Fox had no one, it was necessary that he get involved with someone posthaste. It was all becoming so clear to him. It was as if it were his destiny to be with her; as if some trite overlord was writing their destiny out together. This was it. All previous events clearly pointed to this choice. How could he not have seen it before! Grape and he together was right in line with every previous event in the story of their lives. It was the only natural, logical path for their novella to go. She was his for the courting.
Fox ambulated confidently up to their façade portal and rapped his metacarpophalangeal joints against the surface in the way customary to signal that a guest has arrived. Then Peanut answered the door.
“Gadzooks!” Fox thought to himself. “Peanut! I conveniently let his existence slip my mind! I can’t involve myself with grape when peanut and max are in a love triangle with her because obviously this is what is going on because all romantic options always end in relationships! I’ll have to rethink this situation oh no!”
“Yes?” inquired peanut in a manner that was quite sapid.
Fox had to think on his feetpaws. “Um.”
Fox was feeling the pressure; Peanut had obviously caught on to his ruse. His devious little eyes appeared confused and Peanut-like, but he knew that behind those eyes a true mastermind was unraveling his scheme before even HE could comprehend it. He had to do something quick.
“Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?”
“I don’t think you-“
“I HAVE AN APPOINTMENT WITH MY LOCAL SULLEN METEROLOGIST I HAVE TO GET MY APPLESAUCE GLAND CHECKED!”
Fox darted off into the night, which was about five minutes of Earth rotation darker than it was five minutes ago. Peanut stood on the porch, scowling at the fact that he had just lost all his potatoes to a shark.
Fox arrived at his house prepared to enter his house, which he did before he prepared himself to think, then he started thinking. Once he was finished thinking, he stopped thinking. He had been thinking about what he was going to have for dinner, in addition to what he was going to do about achieving Grape as his girlfriend. While he was still debating whether or not tonight was a pizza night, he did come to the conclusion that he would need to talk to grape immediately, with or without pizza.
Half an hour later, after deciding it was more of a leftover Chinese night, he was slipping through the night like a dark slippy thing, running and slipping to Grape’s house again. Slipping as in stealthily and swiftly locomoting, not as in slipping and falling. When he got to Grape’s window, he used the trampoline he had carried to reach the second floor and flew through the open window. Did I forget to say he had brought a trampoline? I’ll go back and edit that in if I don’t forget. Grape was shocked and asked what he was doing. Fox posed in a masculine way and started to speak words out of his mouth.
“Grape, I love you. You and I are going to be an awesome couple, but we cannot be together if you are in-between Max and Peanut. But from the second I jumped into the room and nearly killed you, I’ve known you know that we deserve to be together. Here, I brought you a little box of rice to eat while you think about it.” He also brought a box of rice, which he preceded to hand to her.
She looked at the box skeptically. “Don’t you think tonight’s more of a pizza night?”
At this single phrase, Fox was horrified. His heart had told him that tonight was a Chinese night.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter. Yes Fox, from the second that was just a few seconds ago, when you used the trampoline he had carried to reach the second floor and flew through the open window, I knew that I loved you with all my heart. I want to spend my life growing young together with you and Daisy, and I want nothing more. I’ll leave Peanut and Max and maybe even Bino immediately if it means we can be together!”
As she continued about more trivial things that the reader probably doesn’t care about, Fox thought to himself. His HEART had said it was Chinese. Grape’s heart had said it was pizza. They did not have a deep spiritual connection like he thought. Clearly, this was not meant to be. He wished it was, but he could never tame her wild saucy spirit no matter how hard he tried.
“Stop,” he said like a statue with speaking capabilities. “I can never have you. It’s clear from the way your heart speaks to me that no matter how hard I try I can’t be with you.”
“Oh yeah,” she said in a way that said something like ‘oh yeah, Bob,” but without the Bob.
“Wait, you agree?” he said in an inquisitive manner.
“Yeah, you’re right. Bye!”
“… That Grape was ugly anyways,” and he jumped out the window, like a kangaroo flea.
This is where the conclusion goes.
All characters © Rick Griffin
Bob © Me.
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