A Cantaloupe Story (Video)

The cantaloupe is an all around delicious fruit. Its sweet, orange flesh is the perfect foil for salty prosciutto or briny feta cheese. However, this post has nothing to do with eating the cantaloupe. The melon in this fashion sacrificed itself for the purpose of art. Take a look at the video.

So why sacrifice an innocent cantaloupe? Walmart didn’t have any watermelons. Allow me to put the cantaloupe in context.

One doesn’t come across a hand held skeet launcher and two dozen clay pigeons every day. In addition, happening upon an Excalibur type sword occurs as often as winning the lottery while a shark bites you during a lightning storm.

Skeet thrower with skeet inside. — Cantaloupe battle weapons.

Large sword in front of cherub statue. — Cantaloupe battle weapons.

So, how do we showcase these tools in a humane and legal manner?

Enter the cantaloupe.

It’s large, durable yet pliable. In short, the perfect receptacle for projectiles and sharp objects. Moreover, cantaloupes are cheap.

The first goal was simply target practice with the clay pigeons. The objective was to knock the melon off the cage and raise my hands in victory.

I used an old tomato cage to mount the cantaloupe. The cage supported the melons without obstructing movement like a table might.

Setting the cantaloupe on the cage presented the first challenge. Because of the cage’s wiry structure and the melon’s weight, achieving the necessary balance took a few tries. That is, until I realized I could jab the melon with the cage legs like a four pronged kebab.

Once on the cage, the melon and I stared each other down. At this point, the cantaloupe had the advantage because I had never held a skeet flinger. I slung the first pigeon and watched it shatter far left of the target.

Skeet about to hit wall. — The cantaloupe deftly avoiding the clay pigeons.

Skeet shattering. — The cantaloupe deftly avoiding the clay pigeons.

The melon must have sensed my inexperience. The fruit seemed to mock my incompetence with the flinger. With each sling, the cantaloupe defied me to knock it off its perch. It taunted me, “Hit me! I dare you!” It had known victory before the battle began.

After exhausting the clay pigeons, I dropped the flinger and watched the cantaloupe relax on its perch. Despite its victory against the clay pigeons, the cantaloupe didn’t gloat. Maybe out of anticipation, confidence or dread.

Next came the sword. The sword weighed about ten pounds (4.5 kilos) so it presented its own challenges. The sword’s weight and length made it cumbersome and uneasy to swing. Once again, the melon must have known my lack of experience. I’m not battle tested so the only way to swing it was like a baseball bat.

The melon evaded the first swing, along the lines of a ninja ducking a sword strike, limbo style.

Next, the cantaloupe thwarted the attempted strike, a la Bruce Lee blocking a punch. Finally, success by executing a full melonectomy. The cantaloupe won against the clay pigeons but ignominiously lost against the sword.

I don’t advocate violence against my fellow humans in any way. However, the cantaloupe in battle with the clay pigeons and sword exhibited cartoon violence personified. In the end, the melon gave up its being in the most delicious way.