"We hate you too" the Pineapples replied, their eyes a wicked gleam.
A bolt, a shock, a laughing stock, my cursed forever hand
Become a spiky yellow fruit, spread horror throughout the land.
I work as a part-time villain now, spreading havock upon my homeland as vengeance for shunning my deformity. Normal people, they lose a hand, they get a hook, a sword, a stump, y'know, something flashy and chic. Not me! I got a Pineapple. You know how hard it is to be respected when you're trying to convince someone of the efficacy of your marketing program but your left hand is a pineapple? I used to be a salesman. Had a briefcase and everything. Go into my regular meetings and try to set up my nice easel with charts and statistics and compelling power statements on the labor theory of value and all that, but now I have a pineapple hand. Kinda ruins the image. Its not even articulated, its just a full out pineapple.
So I go into one of these meetings, new pineapple and all, but I'm trying to put on a confident face, y'know? Sales strategies and all that. Didn't matter. My hand is a pineapple.
So now my career is ruined and I'm a common goon wandering alleys at night threatening to bash people in the face with a pineapple for small cash. Can't even cut the thing off... It just grows back. If I pull with my right hand I can pull it off, and another will grow into its place before you could even say Ananas comosus, which is its Latin name because if you're going to have a curse like this you at least need to try to make it sound respectable.
I was in a bar fight once. Slammed drunk, someone started talking smack about my citrus, and I just lost it. Started chucking pineapples everywhere. The pineapple massacre of '08. Not that anyone died, but pineapples are pretty pokey so some people definitely needed stitches. I've got a pretty good arm. Taught me to wear gloves though, whew!
I've been researching. Its tough, because libraries won't let you check out books because you'll tear them all up. Prejudiced, the lot of them. The internet is an alright place for information, but you have to go to the right source. I went to Little Ceasers website. I called their headquarters. The guy on the other end heard my story, and invited me to Italy.
Turns out this curse goes clear to Rome, back when the empire was still around. Some guy invented pizza, and it originally had pineapples on it. Then some dude stole the patent, took the pineapples off, sold it as his own, and made bank, so the first guy was pretty ticked. Now his spirit haunts and curses people who hate pineapple pizza occasionally, just to remind them that they and their anti-pineapple spirit ruined his life, so now they must suffer even as he.
I hypothesize that I could be cured if I could just bring myself to like pineapple pizza, but... Forget that. Stuff's nasty. Ain't worth it.
The end.
