Night fell over the kitchen counter.
Juicebringer slept peacefully inside a cracked teacup — dreaming of citrus peace.
Meanwhile… in the shadows…
Bananarch and Grapezilla crept forward.
> "Tonight… the orange falls."
"Let's peel him slowly," whispered Grapezilla.
They raised their weapons.
SLICE—
But before the blow could land—
TIME. STOPPED.
No sound. No motion.
A presence filled the kitchen.
A HUMAN HAND descended from the heavens.
> "…Why is there fruit all over the counter? Gross."
S C O O O P.
Juicebringer.
Bananarch.
Grapezilla.
Sir Stoolius (who was hiding in the soap dish).
Everyone.
All scooped into one merciless grip.
FLOP.
Into the trash.
Time resumed.
Juicebringer blinked mid-air.
Bananarch shrieked mid-fall.
> "THIS WASN'T EVEN A FAIR ENDIIIIIING—"
THUD.
Lid closed.
The Fruit War ended that night.
Not by assassination.
Not by justice.
But by someone cleaning the kitchen.
FINAL CHAPTER – "Assassination Abort"