Someplace in this world, perhaps deep in a jungle, there is a tribe of apes, about a hundred of them or so.
The apes live within a grove of apple trees, a wonderful place, where the apples are bountiful, and quite delicious.
Each day, the apes go out to pick apples, for they are not just tasty, but also nutritious.
And so the apes go and gather the apples. Mmm. Three apples per meal is a most excellent amount, and they want three meals a day, so they all go and pick ten.
Wait, ten? Yes, ten, because the ape-king, the leader of the apes, he is busy doing important tribal-administration duties, as well as impregnating female apes, guarding the apple grove from other ape tribes, and even planting new apple trees.
Thus the ape-king needs apples as well, but cannot pick them himself, so he has each ape in the tribe simply collect one additional apple for him. So the apes pick ten apples per day.
Nine for themselves, and one for the ape-king.
The ape-king is of course, incredibly pleased by this. He now has over one hundred apples per day. Much more than the others. He feasts, stuffing his fat ape face with the apples, devouring them greedily. He gives some to his female ape-whores, and they feast as well. Far more than enough but it matters little.
The cores? He uses them to plant trees, finding holes in the ground, and then dumping in his cores until the ground is filled. They rot, and the multitude of cores fill up the hole, turn to dirt, and some seeds end up sprouting. A new tree. How useful of the ape-king.
Another ape grumbles, "The same result could be done with just a single core, allowing perhaps one ape to easily grow more trees, instead of wasting so many cores." But the cores belong to the ape-king, and the ape-king owns the grove, and would uproot unapproved trees.
An ape is sick, and cannot climb the trees, and the low hanging apples have already been picked. The ape-king happily hands over 5 apples, for it is his duty to take care of his tribe.
But another ape grumbles, "Had we only picked nine apples each, many trees would still have low hanging apples for the injured ape to pick. Or I'd just pick eighteen, and give nine to the injured."
But the ape-king wants one apple from each ape, and it is quite forbidden to not pick ten apples. Picking less than ten means you still owe the ape-king an apple, only, the ape delivering it will get less to eat.
An ape picking more than ten apples would look greedy, and the ape-king would accuse the ape of hoarding, even if it was just to give to another ape, perhaps an ape injured, or busy with something else.
But there is hooting and shrieking in the forest, and this is where is gets kinda gross, so I suggest you simply stop reading. However, it is important to the moral of this story.
A competing ape tribe is nearly out of fruit, and is in search of more! The ape-king of the apple tribe beats his chest, and munches a few additional apples. He needs two apples delivered per ape, now that foes are near. Two hundred must be delivered per day to the king.
There is battle to be done. The ape-king is fierce. This is modern ape-warfare. Mere fists, and not even sticks or stones will do it. The ape-king will not lose, so he will go to extreme lengths to destroy his enemy. It will be messy.
He shits into his own hand, the most foul, rancid chunk of brown apple-feces, and throws it mightily at the invading ape tribe. Splat. The most perfect hit. The competing ape tribe is splattered, more and more, and the ground turns brown as the hideously fat ape-king lays turd after turd. Yes, it is incredibly awkward to write, but again, modern ape warfare is absolutely sickening.
The hungry, desperate ape tribe is beaten off, covered in feces, humiliated, and bruised by the sheer amount of feces that the plump, fat ape-king can eject.
But the cruel ape-king is not satisfied. He follows them to their own grove, and continues to pelt them with his brown ammunition. It is truly uncomfortable to write this, but I shall persevere. Ahem, so the launching continues for days, until the ape-king we know so well is at the enemy's peach-tree grove.
And so he feasts, eating ten peaches per day, and sending back just a few to the apple-grove apes.
But the eleven apples picked per day has robbed the apple trees of many apples, and so there is hunger throughout the apple-grove.
Still, the peaches are enough to sustain the ape tribe, although they must ration, and always feel hungry and needy.
An ape grumbles, "We could have just traded with them. We could have given them spare apples, and had them give us peaches if we ever had a shortage of food. The feces could be used as fertilizer for the Earth, rather than as a weapon."
The ape-king's apples pile up two hundred per day, and he still eats his peaches, and dear lord, the sheer amount of ammunition he's stockpiling is disgusting.
The ground stinks. If he was to launch it all at once, it would be quite an apocalypse.
But perhaps there can be peaceful trade with other tribes. However, the ape-king forbids lower-ranking apes from talking to the other tribes. The kings of the ape tribes must meet face to face to do trade, not including the other apes.
He begins to sell his own feces to a strawberry-field ape tribe in exchange for strawberries, and he sells more surplus feces to a blueberry-bush ape tribe, in exchange for blueberries.
For protection, he says, and now the two berry-ape tribes have modern weaponry. Just for defense.
And then he spins a little lie, "The strawberry apes have stolen blueberries from the blueberry apes, and the blueberry apes have stolen strawberries from the strawberry apes." He scatters a few mixed berries around the two tribes, and thus, he has them fight each other.
The fat ape-king simply laughs and laughs and laughs.
Oh how he laughs, for he has weaponry beyond sanity, his pick of the females, wealth beyond measure, and has manipulated all other tribes into fighting each other using the feces he himself has created, only by taking whatever he desires. No one, not even within his own tribe, can dare oppose him.
He sees that the strawberry apes have been defeated by the blueberry apes, yet, the blueberry apes appear quite tired.
The apple grove ape-king sneers wickedly, and readies his biggest load of shit yet.
And thus the grinning ape-king has blueberries, peaches, strawberries, and apples, and although his tribe now has access to all of those things, an ape grumbles, "We could have just traded peacefully, and we could have all of those things, and more, but now we cannot take care of so many groves at once, and the other apes are humiliated and weakened, and no longer care for their own trees and bushes."
The ground stinks, the ape tribes are in perpetual war, always scared another tribe will come to take away their blueberries, peaches, or strawberries, despite their lowering quality.
Yet, the apes must still deliver one or two apples per day to their leader.
The ape-king grins.