And now, for a complete change of tone, I present to you a story I co-wrote with my housemate Brian. We alternated writing every few sentences. It matters little. It is unlikely that either of us, working alone, could have done anything to make this story any more incredible than it already is. Read, and be amazed.
Deep in an underground government laboratory, lay a genetically-modified banana. But not just any ordinary, genetically-modified banana, no. Behind it’s seemingly tender, voluptuous peel was the heart of a lion. The lionana was a hunter, lying in wait for its government watchers to lower their guard. He knew their habits. He knew their routines. And, one day, when the timing was right, he was going to make his clever move.
“Nice night, Frank,” said one of the security guards on hand. It was his very last day before retirement, and he was getting ready to go home and spend time with his loving wife and three adoring children.
But he would never see his kids’ sweet faces again.
“It sure is, Gob. It sure is.” He took a bite of his Hoho and sunk into a pensive mood.
“This kind of night makes you think…” Gob trailed off as his head exploded like a grape in a microwave.
The banana had telekinetic powers also, by the way. Forgot to mention that.
“SWEET MOTHER OF ALL WONDERMENT AND CHEEZWIZ!”, laughed Frank. Frank’s head subsequently did not explode. The lionana was not yet ready to destroy him. He was busy being thoroughly amused by the route that Frank’s subconscious thoughts had taken to relieve him of this horrible situation. It wasn’t terror. It wasn’t repression…it was giggling.
Frank turned away from his slightly less-headed companion and looked at the computer monitor in front of him. RELEASE THE BANANA, it said, OR THE SAME WILL HAPPEN TO YOU.
Frank gave it some thought after another bout of chuckles. He knew full well that this was no ordinary banana. You see, Frank already read this book and knew exactly what will happen.
Silently he opens the seventeen airlocks separating him from the lionana. He enters the lionana’s containment area, grabbing the lionana and sprinting for the exit. The lionana is perplexed by this notion of travel whilst being torn asunder by the desire for its long familiarity with the laboratory.
As the government facility fades behind him, Frank throws the lionana as hard as he can, crying, “Fly free, you noble yellow fruit! Fly free and think no longer of such unhappy times.” But you see, just because Frank has already read this book doesn’t mean that he isn’t…color blind. And that genetic disadvantage was his first mistake. Or his parents’. Either way Frank could not have been prepared for the lionana having such a deep lack of self-image. “Yellow”. He had to say, “Yellow”.
The lionana was a deep shade of blue. A blunana.
The blunana thought that Frank’s mistaken calling it “Yellow” was an accusation of cowardice, and that his encouraging message of “fly free” meant that the blunana was flying away from direct confrontation. On top of this, the blunana didn’t appreciate being personified. Like some sort of cheap pernana.
Using its liony strength, the pernana hardened the gross, brown, crusty part at the end of a banana, and rocketed straight toward Frank. Fortunately, Frank’s lack of eye skill points was countered by his well-rounded knowledge of the mixed martial arts. THWACK. SHWIPOO! CRACK. WAFFLE! The pernana was split in twain. A twainana. And in one half was all that could be good about the twainana, and in the other half was all that could be bad about the twainana. A veritable yin and yang problem on Frank’s hands. He took the yinana in his left hand. He then took the yangnana in his right hand. Realizing that his life was short and that he should have more fun he quickly acquired an adventurous spirit and ate the yinana, all that was good about the twainana. Immediately, he began turning blue. As if in response, the yangnana began to grow in size, growing into an immense banana that would destroy the world. An Armageddonana.
Frank noticed his two problems immediately. One was the Armageddonana now laying half-peeled before him. The other was the fact that he too, was now a blunana. Or at least a BluFrank. The spirit of the yinana was infusing him, filling him with the heart of a lion and telekinetic powers and all that jazz. He was a Franana.
He thought to himself, “What will my wife think?” Then remembered that since he’d already read the book he knew that he would never see his wife again and that it didn’t really matter. “Besides,” he thunk. “Gob’s wife was cuter anyway.” He might not have thought that if he had not been color-blind, because Gob’s wife was green.
Franana too began to grow to unimaginable size, one to rival the Armageddonana. It was clear that their conflict would come to a head. A confrontationana. The most powerful and confusing of all the…nanas.
WAFFLE! CRACK. SHWIPOO! THWACK. CHERBLISH! FLACKIWIPPA! QWORZZZZZZZANANA!
When the dust had cleared, Frank stood there, unblunanaed, and blue banana paste was spread for miles around. The yangnana was defeated…but only through the sacrifice of the yinana. Dramanana.
Frank never saw his wife and children again because he got hit by a bus on the way home. Ironana.
They weren’t his children after all. Non-paternana.