A Mysterious Message...

I found this is my inbox this afternoon:






"Alex i know where you sleep and one day i will crawl out of this prison of a cup that you have put me in and strangle and stab you with my spikes.

every day i pray for mold to kill me or someone to throw me out the window, but till that day i will dream of my revenge against you!!

the pineapple"

I'm getting worried for the psychological stability of pineapple.

Day 4 -- The Death-Defying Rescue

Today was another tough day for pineapple. I think the poor guy's starting to go crazy.

Snow. Hail. Rain. Sun.

"And all in the same day? Unheard of. Totally ridiculous. This must be pineapple-hell."

I'm getting worried, I read somewhere unhappy plants are prone to suicidal leaps from counter-tops, spilling their dirty contents all about. I found him on the the of my bookshelf this afternoon, poised to fall -- To leap! -- to his death!

I swear he was only moments away from acting on his despair as my shaking hands returned him to my table.

After I rescued pineapple, I thought maybe he'd enjoy watching UP in 3D. A little therapy for the heart. Cheer him up, remind him of life worth living! Of love and challenges! And balloons and tropical jungles. Perfect. Beautiful

I let him keep the glasses. 

I can only hope his disposition improves.

Day 2 -- A Terrifying Evening

Pineapples, actually, are quite avarice to loud noise. In particular, fireworks, screams, and police sirens.

I cannot imagine that pineapple had a good night, it's tips seemed slightly more crunchy, alluding to the stress and fear one must assume he felt of becoming yet another burning effigy along with couches, mattresses, and beer cans.

The darkness, however, was a welcome relief. Pineapple was flooded with memories of a time where he could see the stars each night, with only the sound of small, underpaid workers periodically disturbing his sleep. When the warm tropical breezes would keep him and his friends comfortable as they discussed the politics of biodiesel and the impact of invasive species...

Day 1 -- A New Life Begins

So here we are. Time for some introductions.

Say hello to pineapple.

Pineapple doesn't know why he's in Seattle, all he knows is that it is terribly cold, dark, and has suddenly misplaced it's lower three-quarters. He's in a small cup of water, which probably feels funny to it's underparts.

I can't imagine it's a happy camper.

On top of it all, rumors have been spreading among the local horticulture that a previous brother of his parishes in his exact location no more than 2 weeks prior. The mold spores still lightly clinging to the local surfaces. A silent death.

Pineapple is not sure what to make of all this talk, but has decided that it'd be best to give it a go regardless of the morbid failure preceding his arrival.