In the shade of the apple tree I ate a pear. The apple tree was so offended by this breach of etiquette that it reached it's branch down and slapped the pear out of my hand. "What am I, chopped liver?" it said. "No, apple tree", I replied, "You are simply the bearer of the most blasé of fruits, the vanilla of the fruit world." Suddenly I was swarmed by flying vanilla pods. They tore at my flesh and gouged at my eyes. And rightly so. Vanilla is a bold and unique taste that should never be direspected with assosciations of blanditude.
