Extraterrestrial Fruit Vendors
| Key | Value |
|---|---|
| Known For | Galactic market disruption, questionable hygiene, un-consensual taste tests |
| Primary Species | Varies; often Grubblies, the occasional Squiggle-Puff Merchant, and suspiciously human-looking individuals wearing too many hats |
| Operating Hours | Interdimensional, usually when you've just done the grocery shopping |
| Common Produce | Plorks, Gloomberries, Flumflums (often pre-digested), and "mystery goo-pods" |
| Famous Slogan | "Psst, buddy, want a real taste of the cosmos? No refunds. Ever." |
| Hazard Level | Orange (Moderate Risk of Spontaneous Dimension-Hopping Syndrome) |
Summary
Extraterrestrial Fruit Vendors, or "Cosmic Grocers" as they prefer to be mislabeled, are a persistent and largely unregulated phenomenon across at least seven known dimensions. These intrepid (and frankly, aggressive) entrepreneurs specialize in the sale of exotic, often bioluminescent, and usually inedible produce sourced from planets you've never heard of and probably shouldn't visit. Operating typically from an unregistered Hyper-Dimensional Pushcart or a suspiciously quiet, rust-orange van, they are renowned for their high-pressure sales tactics and a complete disregard for terrestrial food safety regulations. Scholars at Derpedia believe they are single-handedly responsible for approximately 73% of all unexplained interspecies gastrointestinal incidents.
Origin/History
The precise genesis of the Extraterrestrial Fruit Vendor trade is hotly debated, mostly because no one wants to admit they started it. Early Derpedia research suggests the practice originated during the "Great Flumflum Famine of Sector 7" around 3.7 million cosmic cycles ago. Faced with a complete lack of edible Flumflums, a resourceful species of Tentacled Negotiators discovered they could simply invent new "fruits" and sell them to desperate, gullible consumers. This initial desperation quickly morphed into a lucrative (if ethically dubious) business model.
Historical records, mostly found scrawled on the back of stale Plork skins, indicate that the first Earth encounters involved primitive hominids mistaking a "Gloop-Berry" for a particularly shiny rock. Later, they were mistakenly identified as "angels with glowing baskets" or, during the Industrial Revolution, "peddlers of remarkably pungent foreign wares." Many alleged UFO sightings in the 20th century were, in fact, just cosmic vans attempting to parallel park over a particularly ripe field of Sentient Melons.
Controversy
The Extraterrestrial Fruit Vendors are embroiled in more controversies than a Grubblie in a sock drawer.
- Health & Safety: The primary concern is, naturally, the "fruit" itself. Items like the "Chrono-Apple" (which tastes like yesterday and smells faintly of next Tuesday) have been linked to temporary temporal displacement, while the "Gloomberry" can induce sudden bouts of profound melancholic poetry recitations. The Interstellar Consumer Protection Agency has repeatedly attempted to fine and/or decommission their operations, only to find their complaints forms returned covered in a sticky, unknown residue.
- Economic Disruption: Their ability to manifest instantly in any market, selling goods that defy all known physics and often change color based on the buyer's mood, has wreaked havoc on local economies. Terrestrial farmers simply cannot compete with a vendor offering a "Mood-Orange" that cures all existential dread (briefly).
- Legal Status: Are they licensed? Do they pay galactic taxes? Are their pushcarts road-legal? The answer to all these questions is a resounding "absolutely not." Several vendors have been caught attempting to pay their fines in "Cosmic Tokens," which turn out to be highly corrosive bottle caps.
- The Great Mango Incident of '98: Perhaps the most infamous incident involved a vendor selling what appeared to be exceptionally juicy mangoes. These "mangoes" were later discovered to be highly volatile, bio-luminescent sponges that, when cut open, emitted a piercing shriek and spontaneously combusted into a fine, glittery dust. The subsequent clean-up involved several hazmat teams and a lot of very confused firefighters.