PAIN COMES NOT TO THE BANANAMAN
by Matthew Sanborn Smith
Marco became a bananaman. He hung upside-down with a bunch of other bananamen and made his wife peel him when she wanted to see him. His wife left him about three days into the transformation.
“It’s a transitional period!” He screamed at her shrinking form. “Wait till I’m ripe, I’ll be much easier to peel. And I’ll be much sweeter then too.” but it was no use. She didn’t even turn to look at him.
“It should hurt more, shouldn’t it?” Marco asked Tip, his nearest bunchmate.
“You are growing numb already, my friend,” Tip said. “It would be a cruel thing for God to do, to make the banana feel the mouth that eats it. Would it not?
“I should think so,” Marco agreed.
“That is why the banana feels no pain. The banana wants to be eaten and it brings joy to everyone. It is why we have chosen this path. Don’t worry about your wife. There are plenty of Chiquitas in the trees.”
“You’re right.” He warmed to the sage knowledge of the browning bananaman. Marco was still green and had much to learn.
The days passed and Marco met bananawomen to spare. But none filled the void in heart. His peel was now bright yellow and when he unpeeled himself he found that his own body had become desirable to him. On a lark, he took a bite of himself, felt no pain, and experienced a pleasure like no other. Marco began devouring his own tender, sweet flesh in earnest. He knew that he was good for him. He was rich in potassium.
Tip had long since turned black and had been baked into a loaf of bananaman bread somewhere out there but the words of Tip came back to him now. “The banana wants to be eaten and it brings joy to everyone.”
Marcos found himself in awe of the elder bananaman’s wisdom while he ate himself into Nirvana.