You know the type. The Gravensteins somehow got a cow on the Granny Smiths roof; the Granny Smiths painted the Gravensteins' porch bright Granny Smith green. The Gravensteins had "no granny" stickers made showing a silhouette of an old woman in a rocker in a red circle with a red line crossing the figure; the Granny Smiths plastered posters of the Yellow Submarine apple bonker stilt-walkers dropping green apples all over the Gravensteins' fence. That sort of thing had been going on for years.

But this year things were different. The Gravensteins had crossed the line. One of the Gravenstein Brothers (cleverly disguised as a wizened old janitor by means of false hair and some wrinkly latex facial appliances) slipped into the study at the house of Inestimable Granny Smiths and defaced (or rather, faced) the Inestimable Granny Smiths' prize possession, a genuine Magritte painting, the one of the proper gentleman in his suit and bowler with a green apple instead of a face. The Gravenstein Brother, in a malicious fit of fraternal loyalty, scrawled a crude face across the apple in red and black paint.

The university museum restoration team had a devil of a time removing the face. The color of the apple was compromised, and so was the morale of all of the Granny Smiths, especially the Inestimable Granny Smith Alumni Society. The Granny Boys vowed revenge.

Horrible things began happening. A Gravenstein pledge quit the university and joined a remote monastery after having been beaten within an inch of his life by "monster men with hideous green faces." A loyal Gravenstein Brother bound hand and foot, was found drowned upside-down in a barrel of new cider on the Gravenstein Brotherhood's porch. A famous Gravenstein alum was found mutilated and unconscious beneath a pile of green Granny Smith apples backstage at the Metropolitan Opera house. Needless to say, Act IV was cancelled.

Of course these vile deeds did not go unanswered, for the valiance and loyalty of the Gravenstein brothers is renown. Soon the sleepy university town seemed like a war zone, with drive by shootings and night raids. Red and green ascots were forbidden in the classrooms, the annual spring cider social was cancelled, and many parents came to take their innocent Mighty Pippins, Brilliant Fujis, and Incomparable Brothers of Gala home with them, concerned that they lose their precious up and coming MBA's in the cross-fire.

A week before graduation, the showdown was surreptitiously planned, a rumble to end all rumbles. Armed with every weapon conceivable, rapiers, dueling pistols, shot puts, croquet mallets, and broken champagne magnums, the apples met on the lacrosse field at midnight. Shots rang out, and brave apples proudly wearing their red and green ascots rushed toward one another to the center of the playing field. I think everything would have been lost if it weren't for one brave little gal from the Eternal Sorority of the Golden Delicious.

As the Gravenstein Brothers and the Inestimable Granny Smiths were about to collide with their weapons of hatred raised against each other, a beautiful girl swathed in the traditional flowing yellow tulle of secret Golden Delicious ceremony appeared seemingly out of nowhere, right between the warring apples and cried "STOP!"

Apples stopped dead in their tracks, panting with rage, but none willing to harm an innocent Delicious Sister. Honorable President Senior Honcho of the Gravenstein Brothers shouted, "Hang on a mo, men, lets hear what this vision in yellow has to say. But be quick, milady. I can't vouch for the integrity of those murderers of Gravenstein to your left!"

Grand Exalted Senior Pontiff of the Inestimable Granny Smiths yelled back "Speak little sister! Let it never be said that the Granny Boys lacked the dignity to listen to a lady!"

"Brethren," she importuned desperately, "I know your loss is great on both sides, and I know you are all men of impassioned loyalty and fine fraternal principals, but this hatred is poisoning our community's barrel with a slime mold of violence and mistrust. You must put your anger behind you! We must not become like the Montagues and Capulets, like the Crips and the Bloods, like the, the, oh, you know, the gangs in that darling musical West Side Story?"

"The Sharks and the Jets!" called out a helpful Gravenstein.

"Yes, the Sharks and Jets! We must join hands and unite in peace! Remember, it takes BOTH Granny Smiths AND Gravensteins to make a good pie!"