Written: Feb 4th, 2019

A/N: I feel like my writing style has changed a lot, and I don't know if it's for the better or worse. Tell me what you guys think!

Lovely cover is done by Thank you so much! 

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Whoever thought that leaving a juicy bunch of oranges naked, out in the open was a good idea, must be hanged.

I mean it. Hanged.

I concentrated to the pretty red net around me, to distract myself from this dreadful feeling of violation.

The glossy orange skins touched my own as I sat there in the basket, waiting patiently. Waiting for what? I didn't know. I was torn – do I want to get picked, or not?

Suddenly I was manhandled by a skin coloured mortal and thrown into a suffocating room of plastic.

My citrus juices swished around in my mind as I tried not to pass out, but the room kept swaying. My brain was being thrown around and played like a broken tambourine at a donkey's funeral.

Darn those humans, they have no regard for oranges who feel plastic sick.

After 30 minutes of the agony, we reached the human's house. It picked me out and put me on the counter, humming some song under its breath. Disgusting.

My persistent state of annoyance quickly got replaced by sheer horror when I saw the counter in front of me.

Oh, lord. The blades.

My juices froze. My eyes widened. I wanted to peel out of my skin.

I swallowed a lump of acidic saliva as I tried to think. I need to save my people. I need to fight for what is right.

After decades of torture, by the hands of these insolent knives, I felt sick of it. This needs to end, and now. I hoped, and I prayed that mc fellow soldiers would follow me.

I pushed back my round body, nudging myself to roll over to the edge of the table. Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes and imagined my next moves. My pulse ticked in my ears, and juices rushed around my body with unfathomable pressure. The sense of adrenaline.

Then, I pushed myself over a bit, plunging into the kitchen floor.

And that, my dear mortals, is how Bob, the great Orange, has changed history. Well, at least for himself.