If I Were You I Wouldn’t Give Me a Fiver

I don’t appreciate currency because it doesn’t appreciate.

It tears and it tumbles.

Why offer me a heavily used and really rather grimy little promise such as a fiver when you could drop a tomato on me?

Tomatoes are short term and long term.

Thus tomatoes are eternal.

In the brief they are a tasty fruit and not a vegetable.

I apply them.

In the less quick and distinctly more long-term they are volatile bags of rosy fluid with a pleasing sense of grip to the palm and opponents facial features.

I apply them.

Gift me no fivers.

Land upon me a tomato and expect I shall commit a pleasant vengeance.

I also appreciate that island you’re bringing back to my place.

You nice guy you.

Nothing like an island to begin the day.

Not that I’d eat one, I don’t feel confident enough in my capacity to do so, but I sure as hell will find myself face down and hopes high as I begin to truly enjoy the island that is mine.

I’m a tad on the bright-side perception when it comes to possessiveness.

I just assume the continent is mine and allow everyone to go about their busy business upon it.

Plus sea shanties.

Sea shanties are mine, particularly when they are traded in return for a shiny apple.

I’m going to get me some sea shanties, once I’ve finished my evening’s scrumping.

It would appear my preferential currency revolves around fruit, and I won’t be satisfied till that this sentence can be regarded in a literal sense.

Let’s do that.

Sam