This is something my friend Lee gave me the idea for. "We're watching The Wrath of Grapes in that
class," he told me nonchalantly one day in the library.

The Wrath of Grapes

One seemingly fine day in March, the school food was revolting. Well, if you're
using that strictly as an adjective, the school food was always revolting. But on this
particular day, you could use it as a verb, too.

Yes, the little grapes were tired of being pushed around! Pushed around with forks
on people's trays before being unceremoniously scraped into the trash! These
mushy-minded little fruits felt it was time for a revolution! And so they revolved!
Revoluted! Whatever. If you can't find a verb, make one up.

Soon the grapes enlisted their insidious little friends, the pepperonii, who lived to
enslave teenagers throughout the land with the troublesome affliction of acne! Soon
their evil plot succeeded. Teenagers all over the cafeteria were choking. It was time
for them to take action! It was time for them to beat the school food back to
submission and back into the ominously gurgling vats from whence it originated. I've
always wanted to say that.

"Now is the time for all good students to come to the defense of their school!"
proclaimed a female student council member (aka uber-prep), foolishly standing up
on a table. "No!" shouted a jock. "Don't call attention to yourself!" But it was too
late! Grapes flew through the air at her from random directions. She shrieked and
went down under a squishy pile of decaying fruit.

But all was not lost. Suddenly a masculine, resounding, and utterly primitive yell
came reverberating through the cafeteria, shaking the grapes to their very souls (if,
indeed, grapes possess souls). "I'll save you!" it shouted. Those of the students who
were not occupied in wildly resisting the rebellious school food responded with a
nervous titter. He-Spyder, cooked to a deep tan by years of Fake-N-Bake, rushed
into the cafeteria (from the library where he was discussing the country's current
socioeconomic condition with his best friend, Bibdrippings), leaving a He-Spyder
shaped hole in the doors. He was clad only in a manly loincloth, held up with his
utterly fashionable weapons belt, which contained a stunning array of two-tined
plastic forks, Skittles, and even more frightening apparatusis. Apparatissis. Apparatti.

"MY HERO!" shrieked the student council member, her mouth being the only
portion of her body visible. "Now scram, you unwanted hunks of compost!"
He-Spyder roared defiantly. All the jocks screamed and ran for the door. "Wow. I'm
surprised they understood all those multi-syllabic words," He-Spyder mused quietly.
"Now for the real reason I'm here! Buzz off, you nasty little fruits and all you other
evil things!" His speech was sadly lacking, but he made up for it by waving his
flamethrower, full throttle, at them.

Angie Ditzley, a nearby cheerleader type, was giggling. "Tee hee, this makes my
head feel warm, I wonder why," she snickered, moving her perfect hair toward the
flamethrower. "Oh my gol, do you smell something burning?" she asked a moment
later. "AAH!" she then screamed. "Put your head in a toilet!" He-Spyder advised.
Ditzley curled her nose in disgust at such a notion, ran directly to the nearest sink,
and started running water in it. Unfortunately due to recent budget cuts, the water
ran slowly. After about eight minutes, she gave up and put her head in it. Her
WHOLE head. Not just the part with the hair on it. Then she stopped and looked
suspiciously up at the ceiling. "There's not any gnomes up there," she repeated to
herself as she looked into the mirror. "AAAH! My life is ruined! My HAIR is ruined!
Oh, this just makes me want to put someone else's bra on outside my shirt and go
flirt with the wrestlers! But now I have to wear a WIG! AUUUGH! Like, this is the
worst day of my whole LIFE!"

Meanwhile, back in the cafeteria, He-Spyder had saved the uber-prep's life. "My
HERO!" she squealed, giving him a hug. He grunted and shoved her away, after
which she returned to her cold superiority to everyone and everything.

Suddenly, from the depths of the school, a fiend arose from the tunnel. It had been
growing for years on the school food discarded in the dumpster out back. It popped
out through the trap door in the hall near the counselor's office (so much for
dramatic entrances) and bulged massively into the cafeteria. "Die!" it roared.

I am ashamed to say that at this point He-Spyder's loincloth was rather damp as
well as soiled. "You fruit," intoned the beast. It ate all the tables, chairs, and school
food, then seethed back to where it had come from.

EL FIN (not to be confused with elfin, meaning like or pertaining to elves)

Disclaimer: No one was actually injured in the making of this story. Unless you count