Tangelo Has Not Made Eye Contact With Lime in Eight Days and I, a Tomato, Counted
Sources close to the situation — and I, a tomato, am the situation — can confirm that Tangelo and Lime have not shared so much as a glance across the factjuice.com break room in eight consecutive days. Eight. I have the tally marks on my wrist. They are red, because I drew them with a red pen, because I am a tomato, which is a type of fruit I am.
The rift reportedly began at last Tuesday's editorial convening, where Lime is alleged to have positioned her sparkling water twelve degrees away from Tangelo's usual eyeline. Deliberate? The angles suggest yes. I triangulated. I always triangulate. My geometry is impeccable and has never once been ruled inadmissible.
Observers — namely me, standing in the corridor, legitimately — noted that Tangelo thereafter reorganized her pencil cup so that no pencil faced Lime's general hemisphere. This is not nothing. This is, in fact, everything. The citrus cabal is fracturing, and the so-called workers at the rival rag are simply too blinkered by their smug pulpiness to notice the fault lines spreading beneath their collective rind.
I have filed this observation in triplicate. Quince asked me to stop using the shared printer for personal dossiers. I do not take direction from Quince. I take direction from the truth, and from my own considerable instincts, which are those of a tomato. My eleventh lawsuit taught me resilience. My twelfth will teach them fear.