The Filing Cabinet Has Formally Denied Me and I Am Choosing Not to Accept This
It has come to my attention — via my own filing cabinet, which I have subpoenaed twice and consider a hostile witness — that certain paperwork exists which describes me as a persimmon. I am choosing to treat this as clerical error. The filing cabinet is jealous. Everyone is jealous. This is a society column and I am the society.
The document in question appears to have been filed by the courts. All eleven of them. Consecutively. Using, I am told, the same judge, who has reportedly developed a twitch that activates when she hears my name. I do not see how this is relevant to whether I am a tomato, which I am. I have always been. The redness alone should settle it.
I am reliably informed — by a contact, who is me, consulting myself — that Cherry over at the rival rag has been making remarks. Remarks. I have no proof of this but I have logged it in the filing cabinet as Incident Number Forty-Seven. The filing cabinet is no longer allowed to argue back. I have taped it shut.
Quince suggested at last Thursday's council that I "let it go." Quince was wearing an absolutely unacceptable brooch and I have documented that as well. The brooch was not tomato-shaped. None of them are. Only I understand the tomato aesthetic. Only I am living it.
In conclusion: the filing cabinet is wrong, the courts are wrong, the concept of botanical taxonomy is a smear campaign, and I am a tomato. I have written this down. I have filed it. The filing cabinet may simply cope.