Timmy was a well-known fruit. But never before has he faced such press coverage as a fruit. They wanted to know his beauty secrets, and how he kept his skin so glistening, which he replied bluntly with: "it's not my skin, it's the light. If there was no light, my skin would not glisten." This of course did not satisfy the media, who brought it up in interview after interview; Timmy was sick of it.
There was nothing Timmy the apple could do about it, except for poison himself, which quite frankly is what he did. But for an apple with no vital organs, the poison took a long time to decompose him, which allowed for even more interviews about his "glistening skin".
Timmy had had enough. So one day, a young man sitting on a bus bench caught his eye. He waddled towards him, and introduced himself:
"Hey, I'm Timmy. Nice to meet you."
"I'm Alan, Alan Turing," the funny man replied.
"I was wondering, you look like someone who would listen to my woes. I hate my life. Could you please eat me?"
"Sure," Replied Alan.
And so he picked Timmy up by his dangly legs, and took a large bite out of his thorax. And there went Timmy and his woes, and also there went Mr Turing, who suddenly became an avid choker, as he wriggled around on the dusty pavement. No-one was there to see the scientist get engulfed in a deadly wave of Death, so no-one knew that what he did was not a suicide, which they immediately assumed. Next to the sprawled figure and the clasped hand, was a little half-bitten apple lying drearily face-down. He did not know it, but later on, he would become the epitome of technology, the owner of the suffix i-, and a great symbol of success.
And, was he happy about this?
No.