@pikufin· asked for this:
❝ … all of my bananas are gone ?❞
He hides behind foggy glasses, bites his tongue and finds himself stopping on his tracks at the symphony she plays: pastel-painted and naive, no, you're better than this. "Dear," a soft beg alike, eyes rise from his favorite copy of the communist manifesto and peak out of its cover in blue inquisition: "our bananas."
"—and tell Porco to leave his keys where I can find them, next time. That'll prevent the mess on his nightstand to be recurrent."

















