Happenings of the closed fridge
by lauren finchum
Not For Sale
Author requests article critique
Not For Sale
Author requests article critique
“All rise!!” Bailiff Orange Juice cried as the judge took his seat behind the pickle jar.
“Ok, we’re bringing this court into session.” the milk carton banged the caper jar on the lunchmeat Tupperware.
“Hey, not so hard!” the capers complained from their glass prison.
Judge 2% ignored their display, “We’re here to hear the case of Iceberg vs. Stalks.”
Iceberg’s lawyer, Jake the grape jumped from his chair.
“Your honor, I’m going to prove my client has a rightful complaint!”
“Order! Sit down, Mr. Concord.” said the judge.
Jake took his seat and patted Crispy Iceberg, “You’re the underdog, the jury will vote for you, my friend.”
“I hope.” Iceburg’s eye twitched in doubt.
Bailiff Orange Juice gave Judge 2% the report. 2% poured over it with his glasses set half-mass over his milky eyes, “It says here that Iceberg is complaining about his space in the fridge—again. Claims Celery stole it.”
“Yes, your honor.” Concord talked as smooth as possible, “My client wants to sue Mr. Stalks for taking the coolest space in the crisper drawer. Celery caused my client the emotional and physical damage of wilting.” Jake the grape forced emotion, and wiped away a tear, “I think that he should get ultimate punishment—the back of The Refrigerator!”
The members of the jury gasped. They all knew that being banished to the back meant ending in a journey to the trash can—or worse . . .the . . .garbage disposer.
Celery’s eyes bulged in fear. His lawyer, Curly Parsley, stood with grace and confidence, “Your Honor, I wish to prove that my client bought that space fair and square from Mr. Iceberg. We have witnesses.”
“Proceed, Mr. Parsley.” Judge 2% nodded.
Mr. Parlay looked at some papers in his hands, “I’d like to call my first witness, Rita Radish.”
Rita tubbled over to the witness stand and took her seat on top of the relish lid after taking an oath.
Judge 2% looked at Rita and nodded, “Please tell us your story, Ms. Radish.”
“Well,” Rita’s high, tiny voice didn’t match her large, round body, “I was at home, minding my own business that day. I was fortifying my top locks with chlorophyll, when I heard across the way. It was Crispy and Celery. Crispy was fussin’ about his place in the drawer. He claimed he’d sell his place for cheap because he was tired of it.
“Celery said he’d love to buy Crispy’s space because it looked nice. So he did, and the two of them sighed a contract that Celery was now to live in Crispy’s old spot.”
“Objection!” cried Mr. Concord.
“On what grounds?” asked Judge 2%.
“I think that Ms. Radish is infatuated with Mr. Stalks.”
“I am not!” Rita truthfully denied, “I’m engaged! I just saw the whole thing happen.”
“Yes, you’re engaged.” Jake smirked, “You’re engaged to Mr. Snap Pea. And Mr. Pea is on a business trip to The Freezer, is he not?” he tries to start a rumor.
“This is beside the point.” Judge 2% banged the caper jar to get order, “Do you have a witness, Mr. Concord?”
“Yes.” Concord noded snidely, “But he’s not here yet.”
“Well, then, Mr. Parsley, call your next witness.”
Parley nodded, “I call Mr. Tomatoes to the stand.”
Tom Tomato tumbled up to the stand, and he took the same oath as Rita.
Curly asked Tom to tell what he saw the day in question. The story was similar to Rita’s, but not exactly the same. Once Tom had finished, he left to sit next to Rita in the seats of onlookers.
Mr. Parsley called his last witness. Broccoli.
“What’s you first name, Mr. Broccoli?” Bailiff Orange Juice asked.
“There’s no mister, and no first.” Broccoli leaned back in his seat on the stand, “Just Broccoli. Only one name for me, bro. It’s cool. Like Bono.”
Judge 2% asked Broccoli to relay his story.
“Well, I was chillin’ in my space talking to Roxy Radicchio when I heard it. The jawin’ Crispy Iceberg. And let me say, the dude can whine. Anyway, he didn’t dig his pad, so he sold it to Celery. They signed a paper on it and swapped places. Next thing I hear, is Iceberg yakin’ he wants his space back. And that’s the scoop, man.”
Judge 2% ignored Broccoli calling him “man”, and dismissed him.
Finally Concord’s witness is in. It’s Button Mushroom.
Mr. Mushroom started reciting a story, but was caught checking notes on his hand.
“Did Mr. Concord give you notes?” Judge 2% demanded.
“I . . .I . . .I . . .” in fear Mr. Mushroom tried to flee, but was apprehended by the Bailiff.
“I think we’ve heard enough.” The Judge said.
But before the jury could decide, Mr. Concord crakes, “Oh, come on!” he shouted, Are you really gonna believe a ditzy radish and chunk of Broccoli that thinks he’s cool? And Tomato? Tomato’s not even suppose to BE in here!!”
Tom shrinks back in hurt.
“And besides,” Concord continued, “Where’s the contract they all speak of? Huh? Huh?!”
“I have it!”
With shock, them members of the jury turned to The Door. Sitting on the mayo lid was Ruby Raspberry. Ruby hopped of the lid to Bottom Rack, and glided on long legs to the judge, “I’m witness to the contract. I was the second witness signer . . .under Jake Concord.” Ruby slapped the papers on Judge 2%’s desk, “Concord gave me the contract and told me that if I destroyed the document, that he’d give me a tour of his place on Top Rack, since I live on Middle.” A smirk formed on Ruby’s full lips, “I knew better than to destroy those papers, but at lest I got a free tour.”
Judge 2% examined the papers, the looked at Iceberg and Concord.
Mr./ Concord’s mouth was dropped to the floor, and Iceberg has his wilted face in his hands.
“Jury?” the judge looked to his left.
The plaintiff stood in bated breath as the jurors made a decision.
“We find Mr. Stalks . . .not guilty.” Miss Swiss stated.
In jubilation, Celery hugged Curly, and they collected their stuff.
Judge 2% warned Iceberg to never try any of this again, Iceberg agreed.
“And you, Mr. Concord,” Judge 2% turned to Jake, “You are banished to The Back for attempt of conspiracy.”
“Nooooooooo!” Jake wails as the bailiff drags him to The Back.
And The Refrigerator was peaceful once again.
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