She was in the habit of throwing tomatoes at the Hunters. She hated them with a passion, hated that they were present here in this land, hated that they hunted her, raped her and spilled their yellow seed into her body.
So when soggy and rotten tomatoes were discarded, she collected them, sliding them into a small sack she wore on her belt. She would stand a distance away and pelt the men with juicy fruit, giggling madly as red splattered all over the male bodies.
One day, she found a Hunter who seemed to be dozing on his feet. So she commenced with the tomato tossing, getting the man good and soaked with sauce before he snapped to and ran off.
In the midst of her laughter, she happened to glance up and found another man watching her from a nearby hill. So she began to throw tomatoes at him as well, thinking that the Goddess was indeed kind to present her with so many targets on this fine day.
However, a deep voice suddenly rumbled out across the ground.
“I am your King, girl.”
She stopped instantly, her arm in mid-throw, as a deep red blush swept over her fair skin. She dropped to her knees to grovel, begging his mercy, trembling harder as her Sire slowly sauntered to her.
He paused and looked down at her. “No more throwing things, pretty one. It does you no good.”
Before her quivering lips could form a reply, his regal form had disappeared from her view.
And from that day on, she never again touched a tomato.