BananaDo: The Way of the Banana
By Richard Chown

The sun beat down on the dry hill. Small feet kicked up a cloud of dust as the flag raised high above the gathering. Eyes shifted above the crowd as spaces were judged and positions were claimed. A broad ring of twitching figures spread across the hill.

A bell rang out and the nervous figures broke into action, running to the surrounding cabins and peering out of the shaded doorways.

The children had gone and one figure stood alone on the hill, the dust swirling around him as he eyed the cabins. He did not have long. His target was within the walls of the hut before him, safe, but he had to come out soon and there was only one door.

The prey did not come out and the hunter decided he could not waste this opportunity. He entered the cabin, His prey looked up with pathetic panic in his wet eyes.

“I am safe here!” The prey cried.

“But you must leave!” Cried the hero.

“I will not!”

“If you do not leave, I will remove you!” The hunter grabbed the prey by it's leg and dragged it towards the door. The prey screamed and whined like a little girl and screamed that his leg was being broken. The kindly hunter released the leg and the prey scurried away to the back of the cabin, screaming that he would not leave.

The hunter left and returned with the goodly judicial director who ordered the prey from his cabin for fear of being banished from the grounds for ever more.

The prey stepped from his cabin onto the porch, his head hung low in miserable, evil, shame, to face the hunter, standing proud, banana in hand ready to duel. The prey drew his banana.

There was a pause as they judged each other, then the hunter lunged for the prey who skulked out of the way. The prey huddled in the corner and it was all he could do to dodge the attacks. The prey then pointed and called out, “Look, a poor child has fallen and hurt his knee, we must go and assist him!” The goodly hunter turned for a moment, all thoughts of the duel forgotten, then felt the cold stab of banana in his back. The cold was replaced with the sensation of burning radioactive gunk spreading across his skin and the acrid stench of banana in his nostrils. He crumpled to his knees, tears rolling down his cheeks. He was out of the game.