Countertop Ambush

I crept across the cold granite counter, step by deliberate step, until my target emerged from the shadows: a plump, unsuspecting red cherry tomato perched upon the wooden board. I paused, savoring the stillness of the room. Then, with a sudden, vicious thrust, I jammed my green tool straight into its tight skin. A satisfying burst of crimson juice splattered across the pale wood grain. I twisted the plastic slowly, admiring the sweet little carnage I had created under the faint nightlight. The kitchen isn't as safe as they think.