Fruit wars: The battle for pineapple island

Apples on top of grapes in a bowl
Photo by Yoksel 🌿 Zok on Unsplash

The grapes were ready with their machine guns,
shooting into the air while screaming,
riding mopeds,
rousing themselves up,
Apple looked at them
from a distance with binoculars.
They're coming.
He calculated, considered,
strategized, consulted Granny Smith,
launched a raspberry grenade,
an explosion of flavor.
Apple, the cannibal, sipped the results,
having wine the evening
of his victory.

Big-headed, green alien with large black eye and grim bearing in a car.

So I set your spaceship on fire because you had the nerve to abduct me during the pandemic

There are probably a number of approaches, applied in different combinations,
first in steel and iron, then in gold and silver, later in satins,
dotting them on the canvas, straightening your afro with your free hand,
thinking how things might be terrifying on a spaceship, but also a little liberating,
the possibility of boredom vanishes instantly. You hope the aliens are stupid
enough to give you the wheel so you can test the limitations of their FTL tech.
Who is this strange human
and why does their leisurewear look so comfortable? 

"It can't be helped", you yell out, laughing, slippers swishing, running
from the four foot minions. 

Sometimes, when you look up at a shooting star, think, for a second
that it could be you setting someone's spaceship on fire,
bringing humanity to the cosmos.