Bananas: jaundiced canoes. Nature’s boomerangs. Potassium sloops. Chimpanzee cocaine. Laffy Taffy’s greatest shame. The flavor bridesmaid of Froot Loops. The casual business fruit already has many names, but soon there will be another:
Paul Ryan’s greatest fear, a foe summoned from the depths of grocery hell.
If you speak to anyone who has tried to contact their congressional representative directly, they will tell you that it is easily the most efficient, relaxing process you could ever find. A quick phone connects you to a special earpiece that is surgically implanted into each representative’s ear when they take office. The representative has time to talk and cares about what you have to say. Unfortunately, calling takes so much effort that repeat callers will frequently find themselves withering away into nothing from the sheer force of exertion. There is, however, a solution to this problem: transfer messages into other aspects of your congressional representative’s life. You can even use this method to bug recently retired representatives if you find yourself bursting at the seams with inspiration.
If you found that you still have a lot to tell Paul Ryan, for example. For Wisconsin’s Favorite Melting Action Figure, this all-encompassing messaging has already begun.
In a just world, the destruction of Paul Ryan’s SUV by a family of woodchucks would have been cause for celebration. Parades would have been thrown across Wisconsin, celebrating their defiant act of dental destruction and crippling of an obnoxious vehicle owned by a Republican, live-action version of Sleepy. But because we live in a hellscape of our own making, the story was eclipsed by other narratives before the end of July. Rather than appreciate these stories as they come, we should all take another few minutes out of our day to take a lesson from those Holy Woodchucks.
I am not advocating for the destruction of the electrical wiring in every Republican senator’s car. I have been repeatedly reminded that human teeth are notoriously susceptible to wire-based electrocution. But there are other ways that anyone, even someone casually strolling through the aisles of their local grocery store, can infiltrate the gated communities from hell. This method works for everyone, even those of us who are not Liberal Antifa Super-Soldiers bent on destroying capitalism from the inside out (for those of you who are, your weekly message can be found on page four above the fold. Use the cipher you received from Trant at Trader Joe’s).
The first step of this plan requires you to find out which grocery store Paul Ryan regularly visits. This might be the most difficult step, given that he seems like the type of person to make somebody else do this so he can spend all morning sitting on his roof, trying to adjust his ears for optimal cable reception. This plan could realistically work at any grocery store, but it is especially important that it be implemented at the stores that provide food to Senators and Representatives.
Step two would normally involve determining the average number of bananas Paul Ryan consumes in a given day, but this can easily be determined by looking at symptoms of excessive potassium intake: nausea, tiredness, weakness, numbness, and chest pain. Given that I feel all of these symptoms whenever I think about Paul Ryan, I can only assume that his potassium levels are so high that his symptoms extend to other people. Therefore, we can safely assume that Paul Ryan eats between 15 and 25 bananas every day.
Step three is where the real legwork comes into play. Sneak into Paul Ryan’s favorite grocery store and find the produce section. Locate the bananas and draw the razor-sharp knife you acquired in step 2.5. Carve a message for Paul Ryan into every banana in the store.
I have been told many times that I am not “a real lawyer,” but this is unquestionably not an act of vandalism and therefore impossible to prosecute should you be caught in the act. Even if it is covered by the Banana Desecration and Sacrilege Act of 1689, you might go to prison and gain notoriety as the Banana Vandal. Your great act of banana vandalism will be remembered for decades to come when our descendants gather around a burning trash heap, sipping Lacroix and trying to remember what real fruit used to taste like.
Kevin Biegel, a writer for the cultural touchstones “Scrubs” and “Cougar Town,” began carving messages into bananas at his local grocery store in July, but he never went beyond “I know what you did” and other spooky messages. Bananas are the important factor for this; when the ‘nanners are yellow and ripe, any carvings will barely show up on the peel. But as they age and turn brown, the messages will appear first in dark brown lettering, slapping Paul Davis Ryan in his welfare-gutting face.
Some messages could be simple and right to the point. A nice “Hey Paul, you are my least favorite garbage person” could really ruin his mid-afternoon banana vore. It is possible that the likes of Paul Giamatti, Paul Rudd or Paul Simon could be adversely affected by this campaign, but that should only motivate them to join the banana crusade. Fortunately, the hellish duo of Ron and Rand Paul might also be affected, along with the Peewee’s Playhouse actor who was outed as human trash.
Other messages could be more politically charged, referring to relevant and topical issues or even bills approaching a vote in Congress. Paul Ryan will never have as much of a say in Congress as he once did, but finding Mitch McConnell’s grocery store and leaving messages like “Hey teeny-tiny turtle boy, vote no on bill ______” would be extraordinarily effective.
The slow march toward banana partisanship is just phase one of a much larger plan, but it is imperative that the effect be widespread and imposing. With enough effort, we can all ruin bananas for all the garbage people out there. Make them break down into tears every time they hear the gentle rustle of bags being cinched with green twist-ties. Over time, all fruits and vegetables will be labeled as another faction of our Antifa Super-Soldier #Resistance Boogaloo and Ted Cruz will be forced to subsist on Wonder Bread, butter and water instead of his current diet of Wonder Bread, butter, water and whole lemons.
Do not forget about governors either, my fellow banana eviscerators. Scott Walker, also known as “Sadboi Scottie” or “the type of guy who seems like he keeps pictures of sad children in his wallet,” is up for reelection in November. He already seems malnourished, so waiting for him to buy bananas might not be the most effective option. Instead, carve messages into bananas and throw them at the front door of his house until their collective weight knocks the door down and they tumble into his donor-funded foyer. Make him live in a blizzard of bananas.
Election day is November 6. Carve the date into bananas near you.
