Fruit, baby. Ripe, juicy fruit, baby.
Sorry about that outburst. I recently saw the sequel to the film Austin Powers (I can't say the full title, because I understand it has a slightly more scatalogical connotation in other cultures), and I must say, it was a smasher, baby!! Oops, sorry, must bee-have, now. Reason I say is that I recently received a suggestion from a friend in Australia that I assemble some fruit and vegetable presets. After my last two sets - featuring fatty ballpark concessions and grilled red meat - I figured a little health break might be in order. But who says fruit has to be dull and boring and, eesh, good for you? After all, how many of you enjoyed the final scene of the first Austin Powers, i.e., the creative use of produce as sensual imagery? Woof. Sorry.
Had I but known. Back in the swingin' 60s, when I was an obstreperous tyke, I had no idea fruit was so, well, GROOVY, baby. Stop that. Every morning, I unwittingly raced to Cruft Elementary School with a bologna sandwich and a potentially metaphor-loaded apple or banana. They won't let my 14-year-old carry an aspirin into school, and us outlaws were flirting with horticultural danger every day, totally oblivious to the Freudian baggage we were toting in those (appropriately) brown paper bags. Yeah, baby! Sorry.
All right, man - get down(loaded):

Be hip! Grab fruit.zip! Guh-roovy, baby!!!!