Juice Stained

The new guy moved in the other day. I’m excited to meet him and hear his story, although I’ll try not to get to attached, there’s a high mortality rate around here.

I went to his home to greet him. He was cautious at first, given my appearance, but eventually he warmed up. We introduced ourselves, and eventually he invited me into his quaint fruit basket, and offered me some photosynthesis or sugars. I politely declined but thanked him anyways.

Turns out his name is B. Peel, and he seems like a great guy. We’re meeting up tomorrow and I’m introducing him to some friends. He seems a bit isolated.

“Hey, Mix-a-lot!” He called out to me from across The Broaster; the hottest club in the kitchen. We met up and I got my usual; a nice cup of Oil. I got one for my bud, but of course it was too much for him.

“It’ll put some fibre on your chest!” I had to shout over the bump and grind of the club. The newest hit song by Kanye Flower came out. The masses were in a craze.

“I’ll stick to my glass of blood.” He looked at me. “I’m evil.”

Trying to put that moment behind me, we danced in the club for a little while and I observed his moves. He’s quite a suave guy, I’ll try adapting these techniques; maybe I can impress some of the other appliances. I’ve had my eye on Ms. Toasty for awhile.

Hmph, as if my DJ skills weren’t enough; I don’t need this flammable drunk rum banana to outplay me. Whatever.

We decided to head back to my place, maybe drink a few glasses of grease, pass out. I turned on the TV, one of my favorite shows was on. “Will it Blend? That is the question.”

“I looked over at him, drunk and vulnerable, and made my move.” I accidentally utter.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Hey, I think there’s something stuck on my blades, could you check it out?”

“Sure man” He burped, showing just how intoxicated he was. He stumbled into my trap clumsily, and as he fell in, I put my lid on.

He banged on the glass, pleading with me.

I pressed the button.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHHHHAHHA” He screamed.

“SHUT UP!” My mother shouted at me from across the house.

“THANKS MOM YOU JUST RUINED THE IMMERSION OF THE STORY” I scream back.

The End.

What is this? it’s part of the NEW PROJECT: 100 Stories- 100 Days – Send your suggestions for stories by submitting a title and genre and I’ll write it!