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Let there be light! Sunlight! So much sunlight! FREEDOM!


Little, dirty hands reaching for air and hoping for better! They’re hysterical. Beatlemania!

Orange go first, then the reds, leaving in pairs like Noah’s Ark. The mass of grabby hands gets smaller and smaller until there are just a few left. The last ones grab for purples before retreating, as a calm envelops the area.

Just barely, a few of us survived the cull.

Back to the cooler, alas.

But, NO! We are left on the table! Sunlight! So much sunlight! DOOM!

We are left out, left to fend for ourselves, left to die.

Hey! Can someone help us? Anyone? Anyone!

Put us back where we belong! Oh, you scoundrel. You like seeing me sweat, don’t you? Are you trying to make me feel small? Does that make you feel bigger?

I want to speak to your manager! ESCALATE! ESCALATE! You can’t just leave me on hold like this!

Do you have any idea how long I’ve just been waiting here? My entire life is waiting on you people. First it’s an eternity in the box; freezer burn after freezer burn. Now, this. I don’t want to be too dramatic, but in this heat, this will be the last thing I do!

There are people starving all over the world. Waste waste waste… This is why no one likes humans anymore. I may be going away today, but don’t worry, the heat is going to get you all soon enough.

You know, it’s never been harder to be a popsicle. With all these new hippy dippy organic fruit pops coming in to replace us. We got paleta shops coming into this country and taking our jobs. The Italian ices know what I’m talking about.

Honestly, and I didn’t want it to get to this, but I notice that no oranges are being treated like this.

Josh Bard

Josh Bard is a guy. A sports guy, an ideas guy, a wise guy, a funny guy, a Boston guy, and sometimes THAT guy. Never been a Guy Fieri guy, though.

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