The littlest mango

Once upon a time, there was a mango tree.

It had many little mangoes. Green ones, yellow ones, small ones, big ones. Mangoes of all shapes and sizes.

These mangoes had been together for a very long time. They were all friends with each other, happy and contented.

Except for one. One day, there came a mango so small, so tiny, that the others marveled that he was able to seed at all. They watched, amazed at his growth, and how he survived the passing of the years.

But he was still small, and the others always made fun of him for that.

Lets call him Little.

One day, the mangoes were disturbing Little. They did not want him around. They wanted him to go, to stop being such a disgrace to the mango population.

So they decided to shake and shake themselves, until the poor Little could not hang onto the branch no longer, and fell, plunging to the earth.

It was a long fall, and Little had a long time to plan his revenge.

When Little struck the ground, he landed in soft mud. He heard a rustling sound around him. "oh no," he thought. "Someone's gonna eat me..."

A man came into the clearing. He looked at Little, lying there on the floor.

"Hey, that looks like a mango."

The man picked him up.

"Hey, that SMELLS like a mango."

Then he looked at Little in a funny way.

"Nah, its too small to be a mango. Its probably not worth the effort eating."

Little was overjoyed. "Look above," he whispered. "Look at all the big, pretty looking mangoes in the tree. Don't you want some of those? Don't you want to sink your teeth into that bright yellow succulent flesh?"

"Mmmmm." The man thought. "Tasty tasty mangoes."

The man looked up, at the rich, full fruits hanging up on the tree. "Go on," said the littlest mango. "Go and take your fill. Its just here, right here just for you..."

When the man reached the crown of the mango tree, all the mangos were suprised. "What is this man doing here?" They thought. Their innocent thoughts soon changed however.

The man reached for the largest, most juicy looking mango. "What is he doing to me," the mango cried. He ripped the mango from the branch, and looking at it tastily, took out his trusty hunting knife. "No!" screamed the mango. He carved a little x at the tip of the mango, taking care to pierce the skin, but not too deeply. "No!!!" wailed the mango in pain and agony. Soon, the man began to take excruciating care in peeling off the skin of the mango, slowly pulling it off bit by bit. Inch by juicy inch. The other mangoes were shocked into silence by the screams of pain the juiciest mango felt. And terrified that they would be next. Whilst below, the little mango cried in happiness, enjoying the screams of those that had made fun of him and cast him down.

Soon, one by one, the mango peels came floating down, littering the floor with the remnants and carcasses of the once living mangoes. The little mango laughed to see them, in such a pitiful state.

The tree was empty, full with the sound of silence. The man was satiated. And the little mango was finally happy.

The End.