Apple Boy!

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
"Many a tragic tale has been told through the generations. Some of lost love, others of death and more yet of toe stubbing. But few unhappy fables have been recanted about perhaps the most tortured souls of all.

Apple Boy is a long running joke which started as a circle on bit of paper I should have been doing work on. If I could draw he would be a comic but I cant. :'(

Submitted: March 06, 2008

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Submitted: March 06, 2008



Many a tragic tale has been told through the generations. Some of lost love, others of death and more yet of toe stubbing. But few unhappy fables have been recanted about perhaps the most tortured souls of all.
The suffering of which goes unnoticed or ignored.
In large factories, they are produced.
Twenty or more to a vat.
Their tiny faces smushed up against the sides like …. uh…….. smushed up things.
Each one perfected on a long assembly line designed to check in great detail that none of the creepy or weird apples were shipped out to be sold in shops less the people find out about the grotesque apple factories and cease to eat them.  The usual mutations were apples with one eye (cyclapple), blue apples (Aplues) or a scally apple (scalpples).
These mutated and weird crapples would be removed from the conveyor belt to some where secret that no one knew the location of.  And that’s just what happened to Apple Boy!
Apple Boy is a freak of nature that never should have happened. A horrific apple/boy hybrid, some say he is a sign of the apocalypse, others that he is an elaborate government alien cover up, most that Old Johnny got too friendly with the apple making machine. But what ever the reason, weird he was. With long sticky leg and arms, deep soulless eyes and a bowl cut  he was deemed to weird to be sold in shops. So he was moved to the top secret dumping facility (or the dumpster behind the factory) and this is where our story truly begins…

It was lying in that dumpster surrounded by his fallen comrades that Apple Boy started to think about the relationship  between apple and person.
He stared up at the dull, grey sky, wondering what really happened after apples they were loaded into those huge trucks. He then realised how little he cared considering he was now lying in I dumpster so it didn’t matter either way.
Suddenly Apple Boy smelled something very bad. He wrinkled his little apple nose and glanced around until his eyes fell on a old hobo. Now the hobo hadn’t eaten for a while (spent all his money on beer of something I guess) and was rather delighted to find such a haul of tasty apples just ripe for the munching.
Apple Boy watched in amusement as the hobo reached down and grabbed hold of his apple head and brought him closer ready of a bite. Slowly the toothless gums approached Apple Boy’s head. Closer and closer it came, but before it could get close enough to bite down on Apple Boy, the old hobo’s head imploded in a inward blast of brains, blood and other such stuff, caused by the unbelievable amounts of bitterness in Apple Boy.
Apple Boy took an eye that had landed on his face and popped it in his mouth, just for the sake of curiosity.
The eyeball juice squirted into his apple mouth. Apple Boy allowed the bitter, salty goo to run down his throat. He stuck out a apple tongue and ran it over his lips to catch all the escaped goo.
Apple Boy climbed out of the dumpster to investigate further. The hobo man’s head had imploded leaving quite a mess. Apple boy took a piece of  brain to try from the ground and popped it in his mouth. He didn’t like it. Then he took a piece of bone, it hurt his mouth. Then he tried a piece of tongue. It was like rubber.
He went on like this until every part of the hobo man had been tried then and he discovered the only other bit he liked was gall bladder. “I will never eat anything but human eyes and gall bladders again,” he thought in his apple mind. After half thinking about going back into the dumpster, Apple Boy walked down the ally, away from the Apple Factory, and out into the streets in search of more hobo eyes and gall bladders. As Apple Boy rounded the corner to come on to the street the sky opened and rain flowed down like a waterfall (wow I hate similes). Apple Boy had never experienced such a thing and so wandered around staring at the sky.
So infatuated was he that he never noticed himself walk into a huge crowd of people.
That’s when I come in.
Apple Boy -having not been looking where he was going- slammed right into me.  His sticky arm became lodged in my shoulder, poking out the other side. And pretty soon it became evident it could not be removed in the street.
“Come with me,” I said leading him down the street to my home.
My parents weren’t in and so I lead him straight up to my room less my mother or father walk in to see their son fused with a mutated apple.
I took a hacksaw from my fathers toolbox and began to saw off Apple Boy’s arm. It didn’t hurt -he’s a fucking apple- and soon I could just pull his arm out of my shoulder.
Apple boy staired at his nubby arm, dripping with sap.
Then looked at me, then to his nub, then back to me. I ran to fetch him a jug of water from the kitchen.
As I ran up the stair with a jug of cold water, my father burst through the door. I froze. He would freak at me if he caught me in my room with another boy again especially on my bed like Apple Boy was now.
He was angry though, and grabbed his gun, then stormed out of the house towards his car . I turned back towards the stairs and continued up to Apple Boy.
He looked at me as I walked in and I threw the icy water over his head. Out of his sappy stump sprouted a new stick arm.
“I like this room, I will stay in that closet,” And that’s how he came to live in my bedroom closet.
During the night, he often leaves and returns home with a jar full of eyes and a bag of gall bladders. Sometimes when I come home from that hell called a school, I find a human heart lying on my pillow.
I think that is Apple Boy’s way of saying thank you. I would like to believe it was because he loved me but he is an apple. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does it is usually only really to question some thing I have done and why I had done it in a way he didn’t feel was correct or we would discus his latest exploits, which usually consists of his eating of a hobo man and retrieving a heart for my growing collection. These conversations usually only last as long as Apple boys gall bladders.
I can only wonder what goes on in his apple mind, or why neither my mother or father had been home since the night Apple Boy came into my life.
Unfortunately this is where the story ends for now. “BUT WAIT” you scream “TO MANY QUESTIONS TO LEAVE NOW!”
Well to be honest, I’m bored now and there is an odd smell coming from under my bed - that Apple Boy swears he knows nothing about - I should really check out.

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