Recently in Australia and now New Zealand, there has been an epidemic of fruit for sale being spiked with…actual spikes. Who says plants don’t have feelings? This is tangible evidence that they get pins and needles. It began with strawberries, but progressed to apples and bananas. I now chop up my fruit and put it through Medusa, my juicer.
Everyone is theorizing about who would do this. Except for the people actually doing it. Unless they are experienced somnambulists, presumably they know. The best media explanations are, ‘disgruntled ex-employees’ and ‘copycats’.
Kit has his own theories. They are paraphrased below:
- Dressmakers; they are underpaid although they do very important work. If you disagree, remember that without them, you would be naked, and so would people with the kinds of physical shortcomings that make you grateful for the existence of clothing. Perhaps the dressmakers want to punish all people who wear clothes for not paying them enough. This explains why they would spike fruit with no consideration for who might purchase it.
- Disgruntled acupuncturists. When you stick needles in people for a living, they probably shout at you a lot. Clearly people who put needles in other people are sadists. Acupuncturists might want to hurt people in their absence by putting needles in their food. To them, the important thing is that somebody is getting hurt. As they differ from masochists, the second most important thing is that it is not them.
- Most likely (in Kit’s mind) Spike Milligan, the cactus has been shedding his spikes, and somehow getting them into fruit all over Australasia. He is a wily little scoundrel, who made me like him, despite being a completely useless plant with no leaves or flowers (which is the main reason you have plants), who leads a wholly pointless existence sunning himself on the balcony. In the nude! And, if you try to hug him, he stabs you.
After discussing his theories with His Dad and me, Kit asked, “Didn’t you say that the price of strawberries has dropped?”
“That’s right,” I confirmed, “They’re about five times cheaper than usual.”
“And what about apples and bananas?”
“Probably,” I said vaguely, “Now, please put your coat on. We’re going out.”
I now regret this conversation.
When we got home, Kit disappeared onto the balcony. I found him poking around Spike, who he claims to dislike, a spike wrapped in his paw. I’m afraid I may have a copymeerkat on my hands. I wonder which food he wants to drive down the price of. I may need to confiscate my cactus.