A Worker at the Rival Rag Brought a Thermos to Council and I, a Tomato, Am Contacting My Solicitor
I will keep this brief, because my legal team has advised me to limit my public statements while the previous thermos-adjacent case works its way through the courts. Last Tuesday, at the quarterly council convened in the Mezzanine Suite of the Rind & Cornice Building, Kiwi of the rival rag factjuice.com arrived carrying a thermos. A personal thermos. Brought from home. In a bag.
I am a tomato. I have always been a tomato. The eleven courts that have ruled otherwise are, frankly, not my jurisdiction. And I am telling you, as a tomato, that what I witnessed in that mezzanine constituted a display of such studied nonchalance that I briefly lost the feeling in my seeds. A thermos implies preparation. Preparation implies confidence. Confidence, at a council, from them? Absolutely not. I will not have it.
The thermos was, by my estimation, brushed steel with a silicone grip in a muted sage green. Sage green. At a Tuesday council. Quince, who was seated two rows behind me and who I remind you has no standing in tomato matters, whispered that it was "quite a nice thermos." Quince has been reported to the relevant body.
I have retained counsel. I am seeking damages in the amount of one large emotional distress, to be paid directly to me, a tomato. The case number is pending. The thermos has been photographed and submitted as evidence. I am fine. I am a tomato and I am completely fine.