He fever dreamed of finding the banana himself, not a talking version like Tony’s but he had a way to remedy that. Return to the goldfish with the banana on top and insert. “Goldfish — banana — top, got it,” he said to the Dreamweaver before entering the stage. “Goldfish — banana — top,” he repeated now before it. Pick it up, he also realized. Now back to the floating fish he’d passed only minutes earlier.
Nom nom nom, little fish. Nom nom nom.
There! A whole bunch of them now, and larger than ever each and every one. Bananaboro! No D needed.
And there’s my little fishy! All grown up. “Hi up there! Hiigh!”
Cover him up, Luther. Time of death (he checks his watch): 10:09.
Sunklands 