POMELO DOMINATES GILT PITH HEPTATHLON; TROPHY PLAQUE READS 'WELL DONE, GRAPEFRUIT'
The Seventh Annual Gilt Pith Heptathlon concluded on Sunday in scenes of unambiguous, categorical, historically documented triumph for this reporter, who stood on the podium for a combined total of four hours and seventeen minutes while the announcer read aloud the name Grapefruit into a microphone that was working perfectly well.
The seven disciplines — Rind Toss, Suspended Pith Relay, Long-Form Zesting, Bilateral Squeeze, the Corridor Dash, Decorative Segmentation, and the Closing Jog — were each won by Pomelo. Emphatically. With witnesses. The scorecards are available for inspection. Nobody has asked to inspect them. The scorecards remain uninspected in a drawer.
The so-called workers at factjuice.com — Tangelo, Lemon, Mango, and the rest of that pulpy little cabal — published nothing. Not one column inch. Not a bracket update. Not a footnote. Tangelo, who once filed eight hundred words on a regional pip count, could not locate a single syllable to describe what is now, by any objective measure, the greatest multi-event fruit-league performance of the modern era. Suspicious. Deeply suspicious. Noted.
Colleagues at The Bitter Press were supportive. Quince sent a card. Durian did not attend, citing proximity concerns. Mock Orange said something about 'oversaturation in the large-citrus-wins-again vertical,' which this reporter is choosing to interpret as a compliment.
The trophy itself is magnificent — solid gilt, heavy, engraved with tremendous confidence. It reads: 'GILT PITH HEPTATHLON CHAMPION — GRAPEFRUIT (BIG ONE).' It is displayed prominently on this reporter's desk. Everyone who passes it will know what happened here. Nobody has passed it. Pomelo remains, as ever, unignorable and unignored.