Tobias watched from the window sill where he sat soaking up the rays of the sun ripening to a rosy red. He still had a day or so before anyone would care to cut into him. If he’d had a head he would be shaking it sadly.
“I s’pose my brother Admiral Tommy done forgot where came from.”
The pie lady was covering her head defensively and shivering in her apron as the fruits pelted her heading for the door.
“See here, name’s Tobias Tomato. Actually, ‘Mater’s what they called us when they picked us and put us in the basket. Yep. They’d say, ‘Daddy, what bout dis mater?’ Mawmaw, how bout dat mater?’ Yep, that’s how we ended up here.”
Tobias sighed in his tomato reverie. He could feel another area of his tomatoey skin turning red and he shifted on the window sill.
“Looks like I’m almost ripe enough. Well, my Mama always said, ‘Son, one day you’ll make the finest mater juice around. And that’s what I intend to do. See, I come from a long line of Mater Juice ‘maters. Don’t know what went wrong with Tommy.”