Who killed the pomegranate?

We bought a large, juicy pomegranate last weekend. Kenneth decided to make sorbet out of it. He squished it with his hands, and like tiny grapes bursting, the bright red juice landed all over the counter, wall, sink, and on his white T-shirt. Kinda like a murder scene. The sorbet turned out to be quite good, but it was a very cold day and the sorbet was really quite chilly...