A masked bandit enters a bank, armed with a banana. He walks up to the till.

“Hands up!” he yells, “this is a robbery!”

The teller looks at him, confused.

“Is that meant to be a weapon?” he asks.

“You’re damn right it’s a weapon!” the bandit proclaims.

The clerk is not convinced.

“But, well–” he scratches his head. “It doesn’t look very lethal.”

Under his mask, the bandit is outraged.

“Not lethal!?” he yells, “try eating ten million of these in one go, and as the radiation eats away at you, tell me what isn’t lethal! And not to mention that eating four hundred a day will bring your potassium to dangerous levels! Ugh–” he scoffs, “not dangerous! You better pass over that money, unless you want to get a face full of potassium!”

But the teller is still not convinced, or particularly interested in continuing to entertain the lunatic’s shenanigans.

“Guard!–” he calls, and as the guard turns to listen to him, a wry smirk appears on the clerk’s face.

“This guy, he’s–” he looks the bandit in the eyes through the holes in his mask.

Horror possesses the bandit as he understands the clerk’s intentions.

“No!” he exclaims in disgust.

“Ban–”

“No! Don’t say it!”

“–an–”

“I mean it!”

“–as”

And he goes fucking apeshit on them.

18.VII.23