There was an awkard moment of silence following this proclomation by Jackfruit. During the quiet time-either Chuck, Groves, or Jackfruit cut the cheese. I couldn’t tell who did it, but I know that it sure as turtle shells wasn’t me. Once the smell had wafted onward-the odd, oblong fruit known as Jack, spoke again.
“My fallen brothers and I are what people here call “Hedge Apples”. In some parts of the world we are even called “Zombie Eggs”. Although these titles are common, they are incorrect. I can assure you that we are neither reddish fruits that grow on trees, nor are we the unfertilized shelled yolks of the undead. In actuality, we are from Africa...
Just then, a sound like that of a retired jewelry salesman imitating a rustly fog horn by way of a jack hammer came from above us. We looked up and saw a sky filled with flying animals.
YOURS TRULY WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGIZE TO JACKFRUIT AND ALL OF HIS FRIENDS FOR MAKING THE COMMON MISTAKE OF REFERRING TO THEM AS HEDGE APPLES. I DIDN'T KNOW ANY BETTER. HONEST.