Alston threw his book on the table, and Jeffrey set his pineapple beside it.
Drain the syrup from a tin of pineapple, boil it down to half.
There was a smell of pineapple, the odour of fruit and flowers.
I remember the butter was in the shape of a pineapple with leaves and all.
So the pineapple is really a moss; only it is a moss that flowers but 'imperfectly.'