02 03 The Rhineheart Roost: Haeley and the Mystery of the Fizzing Watermelon. 04 05 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 31 32 33

Haeley and the Mystery of the Fizzing Watermelon.

I think this is as close as I'll ever get to being Nancy Drew.

It began as a normal night. I sat on my couch, alone, save for one roommate who was peacefully slumbering away in our room. It was late, and I was tired after watching a movie. As I removed my headphones and made for my bedroom, I heard the strangest noise. It was a.... Hissing? I slowly backed up into my kitchen, searching for the source of the sound.

I initially thought it was a gas leak, and it was spelling out certain doom for the lot of us. I couldn't smell anything out of the ordinary, but that doesn't mean anything when it comes to gas leaks.

Once I determined that it couldn't be a gas leak, I then thought it must be a balloon. We had some balloons in the apartment about a week ago, and I was sure we had gotten rid of them all, but there could be a hidden one lurking around somewhere, right? I checked, and was wrong once again.

As I was turning around, I was met with a peculiar sight. The watermelon on our counter was covered in white foam. Did one of my roommates wash dishes and accidentally get soap on the melon? Upon closer inspection, I deduced that the foam was coming from the watermelon itself. What's more, is it appeared to have been flowing free for some time, as the counter was covered in a beige fluid leading to the frothy puddle pouring from the fruit.

I got closer, looking incredulously as the foam continued to spurt from some unseen pore in the watermelon, I noticed the smell it was giving off. I expected to smell a sour, fruity smell, but was instead met with the aroma of yeast, almost as if the watermelon was actually a lump of bread dough. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was definitely unnatural.

This watermelon HAD to be under some magnificent stress for it to be able to force such liquid through its tough rind. I knew it was undoubtedly due to blow at any time, and it would cover the kitchen and me in a pulpy, rancid mess. I knew what I had to do. It was time to take action.

I gingerly picked up the great, rotting fruit and made my way for the door. Fearing that at any moment it would blow, effectively scarring me for life, I walked swiftly towards the nearest black barrel in sight. On my way to the bin, I was met with a small crowd of attractive young men who looked at me quizzically. I suppose the sight would be an odd one, maneuvering through the dark parking lot with a large oozing melon. Nevertheless, I was on a mission and had no time to stop and discuss the matter at hand. So I merely smiled briefly and continued on my way.

Just as I reached the black bin, I was overcome with a wave of curiosity. Would it really explode? What if I threw it? What then?

But then my conscience whispered that that would be considered littering, and I try my best to always listen to my conscience, so I threw it away, went back to my sweet little dwelling, and cleaned up the counter.

And that is the story of how I almost blew up via watermelon. The end.


Here's actual footage of the fizzing fruit:

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