Read Me A Story...

Good Morning!

Huh! Stupid alarm clock! Your dreams of sailing down a river of jam on a giant panda are interrupted - as usual - by the braying voice of "Mickey Mickson and his Funky Breakfast Shindig" on Radio 6. As you repeatedly try and fail to smack the top of your clock radio you glance at the red numbers below. It's 7:30. Since you don't have to be out of the house until 8:00, you decide to go back to sleep. With one final swipe you happen to land your fist on the snooze button, roll over and fall asleep again instantly.

You wake up again at noon.

Running for the bus, you pass a shop you'd never noticed before. The sign - which looks surprisingly weathered - reads "Fiona's Fruite Ande Vege" and a withered old lady sits inside knitting.

More than a little curious (not to mention pretty sure you've fired by now anyway) you go inside. The lady smiles sweetly and leaves you to browse her stock.

After finding no sweets, computer games or motorbikes in the shop you decide to leave... but your conscience gets the better of you and, rather than leaving empty handed, you buy the cheapest thing you can find. A tomato, for your lunch... or failing that, to throw at your boss when he gives you the bad news.

As you walk down the street you playfully throw the tomato from hand to hand, for the next half-mile or so at least. It's only when startled by a cat running out in front of you that you accidentally throw the tomato up into the air and fall backwards onto your rear, to the badly-hidden chuckles of the few people to whom you were visible.

The tomato, however, rather than slamming onto the ground and going "squesh" - that's "squesh" - instead drifts slowly towards the pavement and hovers, about a foot from the dirt, as if to make sure that you're alright. As you change from glancing to staring at the floating fruit it suddenly falls the final few inches onto the ground and lies there motionless. Not quite sure whether you just saw what you think you saw, you contemplate your next move.

You decide to take the tomato to Bran Krug, a doctor of floating salad items.

Enter The Bran

"Brian! Brian! Get out here!"

Bran Krug tugs at his door a few times, finally convincing it to let go of its grip on the the 17th layer of paint around its Victorian frame. "Trevor, welcome to my humble abode! It's been a while since I've seen you, my good friend... please, please, come in and take a load off," he implies by grunting and slamming the door in your face. Then again, you never were too good at reading other people.

"Brian, I've got something here you might find interesting," you shout through the letterbox. "It's a tomato, and it can float!"

Bran reappears, opening the door slightly more and grunting slightly less. "A floating tomato?" he repeats. "Why, I haven't seen one of those for years. Are we talking simple inanimate weightlessness or full-blown cognitive multi-directional manouverability?"

"Yep," you reply, sure that you understood the question. Bran doesn't seem to agree.

"Care to demonstrate?"

You see no harm in showing off your new party trick and take your hands out from behind your back, where you'd been hiding the tomato until this point. You hold it between your thumb and forefinger and make eye contact with Bran. He looks on with a mixture of trepidation and amazement. However, when you release the tomato, it neither smashes onto the gravel nor stops a matter of inches above it as before. Instead, with a barely audible swoosh, it nips in through Bran's open door and vanishes.

"We can't let it get away!" Bran calls, already pounding back inside after the tomato and leaving the door wide open. You wander in after him and find him barely 10 steps away, panting slightly and wondering which wing of his huge house to check first.

You decide to suggest going for a pint and forgetting all about it.


"You track it down if you like. I've had my fill of posessed produce. If you ever figure out what was going on let me know. I'm going to the pub for a pint."
"There's no time to explain!" Bran yelled back over his shoulder, "Trust me, we have to catch it! Now after that tomato or we'll never ketchup!"He ran down the hall, flinging open doors and quickly looking over each room as he passed.
"Calm down! It's a tomato!" I reasoned. "It can't open doors. A dog or a cat, or possily even some properly trained ivy, but a tomato could nev.."
"Haven't you figured it out yet? THIS IS NO ORDINARY TOMATO!"(A brief blast of ominous but exciting orchestra music filled the hallway.)
"Well, obviously. I mean it flies, and that's hardly ordinary, but it is, after all, only a tomato. One would think some salt or toast and mayo would provide an adequate defense." I was beginning to realize that I hadn't eaten yet, and was considering continuing pursuit for purely cullinary reasons.
"It's not the tomato. it's the spirit INSIDE the tomato I'm worried about. If it were to get out and into something more dangerous like a pitbull, or a tiger or a teen pop idol..." I chased after him, hoping we wouldn't be too late.

You decide to have bran call in reinforcements.

Reinforcements have arrived...

You tell Bran to call all his friends in an attempt to track down the tomato. Minutes later and a man who looks frightenly similar to Bran himself appears (it turns out to be Bran's only friend).
"Hi, I'm Sam" says the man.
"He's my friend" says Bran, stating the obvious.
"Er, hi. Can you help us track down the tomato?" you say.
"Oh, I can do better than that," grins Sam "You see - I am the tomato!"

Realising that the spirit of the tomato has somehow managed to take posession of Bran's only friend's body, you decide that something must be done.

You decide to try to negotiate peacefully with Tomato-Sam.

Tomato is Sam

You try to talk it out with the tomato. "Listen, you don't wanna do this, Sa-er, tomato," You say. He looks at you threateningly. "And why not?"

What do you say?

You decide to distract him,then make a break for it.


Thinking quickly, you point and shout, "LOOK, A BRICK WALL!!"
Tomato-Sam looks behind him, horrified. Meanwhile, you turn
and run. Behind you you hear a cut-off scream.
Without turning back, you flee down the street.
Finally, you stop at a bank. Behind you is Bran. "Slow down a little, will you!" he says. "I'm not as fit as I used to be!" You find this odd, seeing that you ran nearly a mile, and he's not panting or breathing hard. Sam comes running down, looking a little out of it. "What's going on, guys? One second I hear the phone ring,
the next you and Bran are running like cheetas."
Obviously, the tomato is no longer possessing Sam. Not to mention
that Bran is acting....odd. More than a little suspicion is going through you, but you're not completely sure that he'll take it well if you accuse hime of being a haunted tomato.

Nobody's written what happens next. How about another random story?