Pitting a cherry isn’t brain surgery—it’s joyful destruction. Whether you use a paperclip, a bottle, or a tiny alien stapler, you are now the master of your cherry destiny. So go forth, pit with reckless enthusiasm, and remember: the only thing worse than a pit in your mouth is a worm in your cherry. But that’s a story for another café.
Now, excuse me—I have a date with a bag of cherries and a chopstick. Spit, don’t suffer.
