“How many people does it take to hate apples?” A loud voice asks over a loudspeaker.
“15 and a half,” the room of writers shouted.
That’s what we’ll be testing today.
“I’ll never hate apples,” everyone in the group screamed. This was, however, the wrong answer. Don’t worry, this group will never bother anyone ever again with stubborn apple-enjoying. They fought us, but it did happen. The quindectet will hate apples. Investigating, we wondered: how many apples will it take to hate 15 and a half people? How many apples will it take for them to hate us? “Open the apples.”
A stout man in a Hawaiian banana suit took an apple from the barrel, a knife from the table, and began to slice and peel the apple. Upon peeling the apple, he ate the crustier inside skin. “This is my favorite fruit and you cannot tell me otherwise!” He exclaimed, to the gleeful delight of the authors around him. It was not time for hatred.
Over the loudspeaker, someone told the man to go buy a Hawaiian apple suit. The next instant, he was throwing his banana suit on the floor to reveal a second, brighter suit, covered in bloody-red apples. He ran, silently screaming, out of the room.
Unsuccessful test. Next apple. A Hawaiian banana walked in next, horrified by the Hawaiian apple suit man walking out of the interrogation room. With despair on his face, he stared at the skin on the floor and said, “I’m here to testify for the death of my brother.” “Eat the apple.” The Hawaiian banana slowly took an apple from the barrel. Without peeling or slicing, he bit into it. In a matter of seconds, his bright yellow complexion turned into a muted green. The contents of his body were sloppily regurgitated onto the grey floor. Its skin turned from neon green into brown, the color of feces. It screamed “Help! God, spare me! Someone, no, I’m not ripe to die-” The bananas empty carcass fell to the floor. The interviewer took the fresh Hawaiian banana suit and left the room. When the interviewer returned, they said: “My turn to try an apple.” The interviewer bit into the same apple the Hawaiian banana dropped on the floor and within minutes finished its entirety—tailbone and all.
A small voice comes out from the side of the room. “Sir, what- what happened to the apple’s little knife, the knife it should have used to protect itself?” The interviewer turned to face the authors, now huddled together behind computer screens, watching this unfold, eyes radiating fear.
“Let’s say, for the sake of argument, I hate this apple.”
“We- we haven’t done the full 15 and a half,” an author whispered, unsure if they could be heard. “I am 13 people.” Case closed.