Imagine🥺

You ask legolas to help you learn how to use a bow and arrow 👀👀 he says ofc bby 😎he drags you by the feet over to an empty field 🥺 he demonstrates while you squat on the ground 10 feet away 😛 he says close your eyes pumpkin 🙈he shoots you you die😍

The Curse of the Hidden Orange - a Dramatic Retelling

You walk in through the sliding glass doors. The air smells of dust and linoleum. Grabbing a shopping cart, you make your way through the four aisles the store has and cannot find precisely what it is you need.

"Hello," you say to the nearest cashier. "Can you help me find something?"

The cashier, who is wearing a bow and arrow and doing parkour off the registers, stops what he is doing to meet your orbs that are as blinding as strobe lights. "You would like me to assist you on a hunt?" he asks, his eyes glittering in the light of your eyes, and you explain to him that you are looking to buy one single orange, to which he says, "I do not know what the fuck that is."

You then realize that it was stupid of you to grab a shopping cart if you are only here to buy one orange, so you put it back. When you return, he is muttering something under his breath in a language you do not know.

"Mellon," he whispers just loud enough for you to make it out and correct him to say that you, in fact, are not looking for that; you are looking for an orange, which is not a melon, and this information registers in his ears in the way you did not at all intend: he now thinks oranges are evil, and is drawn to protecting all of Trader Joes' 3.7 square feet of property from them.

Then he stands up straighter, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. "Orange. I know the name," he murmurs. "I know the color. But I shall help you to search for the food. We shall destroy all wrongdoings on foot. Follow my steps with your own."

He takes you down an aisle, and then suddenly whips out his bow and arrow to maim the shit out of a stuffed animal on top of one of the shelves. It falls down and causes rather tumultuous damage as at least eight boxes hit the floor. You politely inquire what the hell that was for, and he explains that it is a bear, and you say that yes it is, but not a real one, and that it's been put there as a scavenger hunt for the children as incentive to keep them from impersonating Rage Against the Machine while their parents search for the hidden oranges, and how long has he been working here? But he replies to none of this, now crouched down to examine the floor and smell the thin layer of dirt on its surface.

"I feel that they are near," he whispers. "They speak to my bones. They come in multitudes. They are just inches away."

"This is the pasta aisle," you reply.

He squats spiritually in response. "They sit like stones between leaves. They are sweet, and run rivers when bitten."

You congratulate him for describing oranges and ask where they even are. "I'm gonna look in the produce section," you say, finding an orange within seconds and bringing it back up to the register. "How much do I owe you?"

He kneels on top of the register now, setting the fruit on the scale and hoping it will send him the message telepathically.

"The number is 4012," you say, because you happen to know these sorts of things (strange how you didn't know to look in the produce section for oranges, though, you absolute pinnacle of brain function; you could have potentially saved yourself at least eight paragraphs otherwise). He types in the numbers but has a difficult time explaining to you the price.

"Your pocket must be rid of a paper and three coins," he whispers, and looks to you in fear. "I hear the papers inside the box screaming in loneliness. They must be joined by your own. It must be done."

"I don't hear anything," you say, and he looks at your purchase in alarm, deciding that the orange is certainly ill-intended, and now with proof.

"Your ears are blocked by an evil. Blessed mustn't be the fruit!" he calls, and he throws the orange up in the air and shoots it into the fucking ceiling. He then does four backflips and disappears into the storage closet, which closes on its own behind him. The other cashiers assure you that this is normal and then they all quit their jobs at the same time. Actually, there is one other cashier. But not anymore.

The abomination comes out of the closet, as he does, riding a shopping cart that carries a wooden treasure chest. He is perched on the handle of the cart like a bird as he sings some strange mantras or something. The cart moves slowly by you, and you see a note on the chest explaining that if you found the bear you get some treasure from inside. Dropping onto the floor, he pries open the lid and looks inside to see like thirty oranges. He screams.

You change your mind buy an apple from a gas station