fruity peril in the brackish waters

Invariably, it always comes to this. *Bang!* Red, wet, clumps spattered the dock, some sliding into the brackish waters below. She stooped down, delicately scooping the substance onto her finger… before tasting it. “Just as I suspected… raspberry.”

He ran, knowing that his hired detective always was right. And if he was caught shooting another of his species, he’d be executed right on the spot. But it was then that he looked at his detective lemon and saw her shove him into the grape sea.

Waves of grape juice slammed on him like a wrestler launching a jump. Sweetness poured into his mouth, looking for a way to squeeze out every pocket of air. He tried to think but through the panic he could only focus on one thing. That disgusting taste of artificial sweetener.

He felt the bile claw its way up his throat, as the juice settled in his stomach, and ran to the loo.

Luminescent green ooze seeped from the corners of his rapidly filling mouth, before, unable to reach the bathroom in time, it erupted in a geyser of warm goopy stomach juice. The evacuation of his digestive tract was so violent that his stomach ruptured and he was rushed away.