(Pugh) BANANAAAAAAAAA!!!!

I have many reasons as to why I despise the café across the street. First of all, the name. Café Eris? What kind of name is that? Eris is considered to be the personification of time within pre-Socratic literature, so how does this apply to the present day? I doubt the people who eat there are smart enough to understand the depth of the name.

See, knowing the owner, I understand the meaning behind the name. The owner, Scanta, is a mysterious man. After knowing him for (far too many) years, I have a good understanding of his overall being. Bloody hell. He is a snarky, cocky bloke, and yet he has the intelligence to back it up. He is surprisingly charismatic to others, and unfortunately I have fallen victim to his ways on numerous occasions. I can’t help myself, though. I know I strongly dislike the man, I consider him my rival for God's sake! It is one of my ultimate goals: to finally beat Café Eris, whether that be in sales or by making the business go bankrupt altogether. My passionate hatred roars, and I feel it in my bones every time I think of Scanta and his shiny bald head.

I hate him with every fiber of my being.

However.

There’s a part of me that understands he’s still very much the same lad he was back in highschool, and for that I respect him.

It is very small, yes, but I know it’s there. It’s the sole reason why I refuse to play dirty within our rivalry. At first I thought it was due to pride; that I didn’t want to win by using dirty little tricks. I wanted to win fairly, to prove myself.

But maybe my subconscious thinks this reason is boring, and therefore tries to look for something else.

I can’t deny that I do feel connected to him. Like something has tied us together for years on end. The rivalry between us is a driving force in my life. 

Being Scanta’s rival is admittedly fun, and brings excitement into my life. The constant competition to outdo one another is exhilarating. Even after so many years, I still fight for my side.

Although, sometimes, I question it. Why has it gone on for so many years? We are both grown men at the end of the day, and I know Scanta can be mature. So why do we both hold onto this rivalry?

Bloody hell.

Sometimes my thoughts grow dark. What if I’m the only one who believes there is a rivalry? Of course his actions reassure me, but what if he’s that deceptive? What if he doesn’t truly care? So much of my time, so many of my thoughts and feelings, all go to waste if this is true. The amount of hardship I have invested into hating this man, and yet he doesn’t reciprocate these feelings? That’s just pathetic.

It’s as if I came into this world believing it was my goal to rip us apart. I needed to be free of Scanta and his dark charm. He has roped me into his stupid little games for most of our lives, and like an obidient dog I follow, whether it be because of anger or instinct. Is this all I can amount to?

If this was my reason for existence, then the universe truly is cruel. Bloody hell.

No matter how much I try to gain the upperhand over him, some otherworldly force brings us back together. We’re back on the same footing.

One cannot grow without the other.

We are stuck together.

No matter what.

…

Bloody hell, I’ve been thinking of Scanta too much. I snapped myself out of my thoughts and looked back down at what I was doing. I held in my hand a flyer, clearly created by Scanta himself. He was planning something, and to my understanding the “event” will take place today.

I have a gut feeling that it has to do with my café. I cannot allow this, and yet the only thing I can do is wait.

If I confront him and he is bluffing, then I look embarrassing and paranoid. If I let myself believe it has nothing to do with us, he will ambush my café during my weakest hours. I must prepare.

Suddenly, the front door of my café was slammed open.

It’s starting.

I could hear the confused yelping of my customers and workers alike as -whatever monstrosity- Scanta has planned came into my establishment. I rushed out of my office to see what was going on.

As I got closer, more screaming was heard. It sounded like humans imitating something else… Something almost childlike.

When I got to the main area, a large group of people had swarmed my café, yelling and running around. My eyes widened in horror. How was I supposed to handle all of this?

There were at least 50, and they were all dressed in the weirdest way possible. Roughly half of them had been painted yellow from head to toe, and the other half purple. Everyone wore a pair of overalls and large circular goggles over their eyes. Those painted yellow had bald caps on, and those painted purple had frizzy purple wigs. The purple ones seemed to chase the yellow ones around the café while the yellow screamed in fear. It was a mess.

I needed to handle this fast before my customers passed out in shock.

“STOP THIS IMMEDIATELY, BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE!” I screamed my loudest, and yet my voice was drowned out by the odd screaming.

“I SAID I’M GOING TO CALL THE POLICE!” The group only laughed at me and continued to run around. It seemed like they were watching me, waiting for something. Oddly, they weren’t touching anything.

This definitely had to be Scanta. That bastard is too scared to get sued for property damage.

I could see my customers running out of the café in fear, and my workers running into the back room. I yelled at everyone to calm down, but every time I raised my voice the group drowned it out in laughter.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME? THIS IS HARASSMENT!”

The group settled down while the shortest person approached me. They looked at me with a very serious face and I waited. What did Scanta want? Money? Food?

The yellow-painted person took a deep breath.

“Abanana boo bee doo bee boo bababa.”

The others, both yellow and purple-painted alike, nodded in agreement.

My eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “In english, maybe?”

“Baba boo ee! AAAAAAAAAAAA!”

The group started to yell in sync and I panicked.

“STOP!” Luckily, they all silenced at my order. They looked up expectantly.

“I know Scanta sent you, so just tell me what you want!”

They looked around at each other, whispering. All I could pick was was “babababoo” and “beedoo beedoo.”

The short one nodded at the group and looked back at me. “Banananana.”

I shot them a confused look. “Banana?”

They yelled in response.

“You want a banana?”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABANANANANANANANA” The group chanted in agreement.

“Shit, okay. Katie! Banana now!” I turned to look for her, and I saw her scrambling around the back room for a goddamn banana.

The group began chanting “banana” as she searched. When she found one, she ran over and handed it to me.

I took it and immediately placed it into the short person’s hand. The group cheered, “BANANA!!!!”

They all turned towards me and said something (I’m guessing it was a thank you) before running out of the front door. I watched in shock as they scattered throughout the street, disappearing out of my view from inside the café.

What just happened? Banana? Yellow and purple?

It seems oddly familiar….

“Um, sir?” I heard Katie call out from behind me.

My eye twitched. “What?” I felt bad for snapping, but how could I not after that whole ordeal? How am I supposed to explain this to my customers?

“Were those the henchmen from Bespicable Me?”

I stayed silent. Of course it was.

It all makes sense now.

“Sir…?” Katie asked when I didn’t respond for a while.

“...movie…” I mumbled out.

“I’m sorry, movie? Sir? Are you okay?”

I looked down and felt a small smile take over my face. Bloody hell. That bastard.

“It’s his favourite movie.”