Where is the Pulp?
I think a certain orange tree wants to nyerify me. That, and feed me a few oranges through one of the openings on my body that I know for a fact is clearly marked EXIT. And such economic expansion measures are something I am not willing to endure. Every time I sleep, it shows up and I have to tell you it is a momo of a tree. I always wake up scared stiff and shaking like a leaf (let us ignore the litre of drool on my pillow) from the terrifying experiences this tree gives me.
It started just the other day in a dream. I was going to see my Gacungwa with a bouquet of roses in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. Beautiful lady I tell you - absolutely gorgeous on the outside. Yes, I said outside. For those who want someone who is gorgeous on the inside, I really don’t think we have enough make-up in the world to make the intestines, pancreas and alcohol damaged liver look good. So I look for women who are gorgeous on the outside. That is however not important. The important part is she is gorgeous and there is a something functional between her ears. More importantly there is no weave on her head and no condom shoes on her feet.
Moving on...
As I was walking down their driveway, this huge ass momo of an orange tree came out of nowhere and grabbed me. I don’t mean grab me like you grab a friend, I mean grabbed me by gripping the waist-band of my pants like a Kenyan cop! It carried me into a huge orange farm just nearby and lay me down on a small clearing. By that time, I was so scared that if I say I peed on myself, that would just be part of the story. Let’s just say if my pants were taken to a science class at that time, kids would have been taught about all three states of matter complete with ready examples!
Moving on…
It started teasing and flirting with me. I was just lying there perturbed, and of course because I could not move with the scientific meeting taking place in my pants. I could not understand WTF was going on. The tree said all it wanted was a hug and for me to get a taste of its juicy oranges. I thought of resisting but a fruit for my freedom was not much of a price.
I proceeded towards her and gave her a hug. I tried to grab one of her oranges. That is when she decided to tease me. She moved her branches around, only letting me see glimpses of the juicy oranges. I jumped in a bid to grab one of them and got pricked by one of the thorns on her branches. My new leafy Gachungwa was playing dirty. I moved closer to her and she wiggled her huge body and a few of her oranges fell down. They looked really juicy. And after the racing and shoving the tree had subjected me to, the pulp of the orange was going to do me good. I bent down to pick one. I reached for it but poof! It disappeared. I attempted to pick another. Poof! Disappeared again. And then another one, and then another until none were left! I looked up the tree. At least there were more!
Phew!
I jumped up to pick one and Poof! And then another and Poof! This went on and on until none were left!
The hell was going on? I have heard of ugly people who scare children but fruits? Who the hell scares fruits? I must be so ugly that I can scare those ugly people who scare kids. I was shocked. The tree was however even more shaken than I was. At that moment, the orange tree spoke. Her sadness said it all. Something was definitely wrong.
"All the fruits are gone! *Sob Sob* That is what has been happening to all orange trees. Whenever anyone attempts to pick one they just disappear. They are all gone. All the pulp is gone! That is what people love me for and its all gone now" She said as she started crying.
Well, if there is something I hate doing it is handling crying women. Crying orange trees is therefore something I was green at. I had no way of knowing how to handle it. I tried to comfort her but the more I tried, the more she wailed. She wanted to know where the pulp had gone but I had no idea. So I hugged her and soon, for reasons of not knowing what to do, I started crying too. After a while, I told her I had to leave and head off to meet my girlfriend. That is when she became violent. She told me I was dreaming and she would invade my sleep every night and cry until I found her pulp! Her voice grew louder and scarier. She raised a branch up and just when she was about to grab me, I woke up, shocked and screaming, "Where is the pulp?"
Thank God no one was near at that moment because I would have been bundled onto a wheelbarrow and taken to an asylum!
My problem now is, she visits me every night and demands to know where the pulp is. And as a result, I can never get to the girl of my dreams. And I am scared to sleep so someone, anyone, please tell me, WHERE IS THE PULP?
