Once upon a time there was a little girl. Her name was Pomegranate Sharkskin. She had pigtails and wore a dress of the finest grain sacks in the land. She lived in a small hut on the side of the river.

Every day she would walk to the river and pick some hoo hoo fruit, showing it to the boy who lived on the other side. He was always outside sharpening his sword or climbing a tree or bandaging his cousin's broken brandy-dick. He had little interest in Pomegranate's shenanagins, and even less interest in her peaches.

Much of the boy's time was taken up with helping his cousin Tiberius. Tiberius was forever getting into trouble, lighting his dwindle-stick on fire or getting his grub-nuts stuck in a wagon wheel, or accidentally placing his peedly-pee into the path of the plow. The local barber was often seen attaching leeches and other beasties onto the cousin Tiberius' nether regions, and sewing up holes in cousin Tiberius' bottom hole.

Dear Pomegranate desperately wanted the boy to notice her, and to eat her peaches, and spent much of her day lounging on rocks in the river, and sucking on bananas. The bananas, imported from Africa, were most likely expensive. Pomegranate lived with her mother, Mrs. Sharkskin, who was often seen feeding peaches to the boy's father, much to the boy's mother's shame.

Cousin Tiberius, a known weirdo, wanted some of those peaches himself. He was always trying to swim across the river to see Pomegranate, and he was always getting his donkey-flesh bitten by trout, or snickered by wolves. He once had a tiny shad swim up his fouling-hole and lay eggs. The local barber had to burn them out with a candle, and it sounded like a barking dog. Tiberius had to poo into a grain sack and was outlawed from the river.

Poor Pomegranate could not swim either, so she was always tempting the boy to swim across to eat her tasty peaches. The boy would usually just flip her the bird and go back to chopping wood. Until one day, when the boy's mother came to him and said, "That fucking whore that lives on other side of the river who always shows off her nasty little cunt is drowning."

The boy felt a tingle in his heart. He knew what he had to do. Quickly bypassing cousin Tiberius, who's quinny-lance had been doused in salt and was being chewed on by a deer, the boy ran to the river. There, little Pomegranate Sharkskin lay dashed upon the rocks of the river, barely breathing, with a soggy peach in her hand. A tiny ray of sun lit her face, and her wet hair clung to the rock like seaweed.

"Wee tried to save herrr, Senior," said one of the Italian brothers who lived next door. "But she swaaam soooo poorly that we ended up laughing at her, and splittling a stick of spicy pepperoni!"

"Eet's true," said the other brother. "The pepperoni was spicy, and delicious!"

The boy took Pomegranate in his arms and dragged her to his side of the river. He gently laid her in the grass. He noticed that somehow in the struggle she had managed to take off all of her clothes, and there was a look on her face that resembled "scheming."

It looked as if she wanted to say something, so the boy leaned his ear close to her mouth.

"Are you gonna play barber and eat my peach or you gonna sit there glaring at my fuckin' boobies all day? Sheesh."