Are all the holes black?
 
Tomato.

Can holes be red?
 
Tomato.

The main feature of black holes is that
 they swallow everything, and they spit out nothing.
 That's why they are black. They don't shine.
 What is the main feature of red holes?
 
Tomato.
 
They swallow, too, but not everything.
 If not everything, then what?
 This must be something that makes them red.
 Or they swallow everything, but spit out something.
 That's why they do shine. They shine red. What is it?

Tomato.
 
Is it Little Red Hood? A whole host of Little Red Hoods?

Tomato.
 
So, it is not.
 Nor an army of Santa Clauses.
 Nor a pile of fly agarics.
 Nor a cloud of ladybugs.
 Nor a giant monstrous pixel.
 However this is something.

Tomato.
 
Is it important what?

Tomato.
 
A hole is just a hole. Nothing special. Like a tomato.

Tomato.
 
Who would care about a hole? A hole or a stain?

Tomato.
 
Rectangle? Flat? Pressed?

Tomato.
 

This is a game, very simple game, kids used to play some time ago in the neighbouring countries and lands. I don't know if now they know how to play it. Times keep changing – games keep changing, too. Of those taking part in the game one asked questions, while the others had to answer them. The questions were very different and unpredictable, answers were always the same: TOMATO. Nothing else. No variations. Only TOMATO. And this word should be uttered seriously, solemnly, without even a shade of smile. Those answering ones had to be deadly serious, since it was the matter of life and death – the matter of being a winner or a loser. TOMATO was a kind of a hole devouring all other words. But why a tomato?

Tomato.

Because it is red?

Tomato.

Because it is an exact image of our brain, a precise mock-up of our mind?

Tomato.

Why not a cucumber? A cucumber is much more funny.

Tomato.


Who has won this time?

T o m a t o !