Pineapple (translated by Paul Danke), contributor
It is I, the Pineapple. The King of Fruits. And oh sure, maybe you’re not into the whole monarchy malarkey, but let me assure you we’re not talking about Queen Elizabeth and her dang bloomers here, we’re talking about a crown growing out of my own head here people. Naturally. Divine. Ya feel?
Which brings me to my point: you don’t want ME on YOUR pizza?!?!!
KICK ROCKS, BUDDY!!!! I am on the menu at every major pizza chain: from Wing Street to the Roundtable, from Papa John to Papa Murphy’s (that’s right, I take-n-bake), I am a part of pizza. I’m the most popular pizza in Australia! How do you not love that?! I’m the dang Koala of pizza toppings. (Though, could you imagine Koala pizza? Delicious.)
And what’s your dang beef with me, anyway? It’s not like I’m ground beef on a pizza. Now THAT is messed up. With sausage right there? You go with the less hearty ground beef? Always burning, a little too much? It’s embarrassing. Not me, I never burn because of my natural succulence. You probably think I grow on TREES, you dang luddites!!! I’m a bush man from way back, way way back to my days in Brazil. 1400s Brazil, OK – PRE-futbol Brazil, OK. Pre-BOSSANOVA Brazil, can you dig? Okay? I’ve been in the Americas before they were Americas, OK? As in, before most of y’all, so please, check yourself.
Not to say I don’t have my own dirty past; sure, my distinguished taste, color and JUICINESS was leveraged for social power in the 1600s, and maybe THE fruit best analogizing colonialism (except for that Banana, who I think we can ALL agree does not belong on a pizza), but baby baby baby c’monnnnnn you can’t hold that against lil ol’ me. I’m just delicious. I was young. I was exploited. And you still don’t want me on that ‘za?
Oh is it because I contain bromelain and literally devour the flesh of your mouth as you consume me? Do you think I’m really trying to kill you?
– The Pineapple