PLEASE DO NOT EAT ME: A TENTH ESSAY, FORMATTED AS A CLASSIFIED AD (ITEMS WANTED)
WANTED: One (1) general public willing to read and retain the following information. Must be literate. Must be serious. Must not be Tangelo, who folded the last notice into a swan and left it on my desk as a joke. It was not a joke. I have documentation.
I am Pokeberry. I am dark, I am lustrous, I am medically contraindicated. I have now published this notice ten times across a variety of classified categories — For Sale, Lost & Found, Items Reduced, Personals (that one was Quince's fault, I will not elaborate) — and still the inquiries arrive. People want to know if I pair well with yogurt. I do not. People want to know if I am a jam fruit. I am not a jam fruit. I am a warning in fruit form.
The so-called workers at factjuice.com published a piece last Tuesday suggesting that pokeberries are, quote, "mostly fine if prepared correctly." I have instructed my legal counsel to define "mostly" in court. I have also instructed Sloe to stop forwarding me their newsletter with little hearts drawn next to the bylines. She finds this amusing. It is not amusing. The byline was Peach. Peach does not know what correct preparation means. Peach has never been dangerous a day in his life.
This notice constitutes my tenth formal request. It is binding in four jurisdictions, two of which I invented, and one of which Durian also claims — we are in arbitration. Do not eat me. Do not attempt to eat me. Do not consult factjuice.com regarding the eating of me. Place your WANTED ads below. Cash only. I am not responsible for outcomes.