Chapter 1

Bananio woke up with a start. His eyes shot open and he immediately regretted it. Why? Because his head was stuck in a pile of sand. Not like a cute little “oh, I fell over” kind of sand, but like a desert-level, infinite-sandstorm-mood kind of sand. His body was half-buried, and he realized that he wasn’t just stuck in sand—he was wearing a cape made of lettuce.

“Why... why am I wearing lettuce?” Bananio muttered, as he tried to wiggle his peeled self free from the sand. But it wasn’t the lettuce cape that bothered him the most—it was the fact that he had no idea how he got there, and the only thing he could remember was falling asleep in his own fridge. His mind was a mess. The last thing he remembered was eating 15 pounds of nachos at 3 a.m., followed by an existential conversation with a jar of pickles about the meaning of life.

“Oh, right,” Bananio sighed. “I was trying to find the Fridge of Eternity…”

But that was a wild fever dream, wasn’t it? Or maybe it wasn’t.

“Banana or not, I need some answers,” he said to himself, because who else would he be talking to? A cactus? Well, maybe—he had a thing for cacti after last year’s wild road trip with the Prickly Brothers, but that’s another story.

He dragged himself out of the sand and onto his feet, only to realize something even more troubling. He was alone. Like, completely alone. No one. Nada. Not a single soul in sight.

Or so he thought.

Out of nowhere, a potato rolled by on a skateboard.

“Yo!” shouted the potato, who was wearing an oversized helmet that made his head look like an angry bowling ball. “I’m Spudnick. You in need of some space?”

Bananio blinked twice. “Did you just say ‘space’ as in outer space, or…?”

Spudnick did a sick ollie off a cactus. “Nah, bro. I’m talkin’ the ‘I’m not gonna get mashed into a Sunday night casserole’ kind of space. You’re the dude in the lettuce cape, right?”

Bananio, now slightly suspicious, eyed Spudnick’s ridiculous helmet. “Who are you? And why are you on a skateboard in the middle of the desert?”

Spudnick gave him a look as if Bananio had just asked why the sun was hot. “You really don’t know, huh? Bro, we’re in the desert! I’m just living my best life. Gotta stay fresh. Got my spud rep to uphold.”

Bananio shook his head, feeling a migraine coming on. “I... need to find the Fridge of Eternity, alright? I’ve been told it’s in this desert. Legend says it grants any food item the power to speak fluent English.”

Spudnick blinked. “Wait, fluent English? You’re telling me, as a banana, you can’t speak English already? I mean, I get that you guys are, like, banana-ing around, but you don’t even know the basics?”

Bananio glared at Spudnick. “I can speak English, thank you very much,” he said, puffing out his chest. “I just want the power to have deep philosophical conversations. I need to talk to a bagel and ask if it ever feels empty inside, you know?”

Spudnick stared at him like he was insane. “Bro, you’re a banana. You can’t have a serious conversation about your existential crisis with a bagel. That’s just... that’s weird, even for me.”

Bananio shot a finger in the air like he was making a profound point. “This is exactly why I need the Fridge of Eternity! To understand the deeper truths of life, like why potatoes always get stuck in mashed form and why lettuce is both crunchy and sad.”

Spudnick sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Okay, okay. If you want to have a deep convo with some bagels, I’m in. But first, we gotta make it past the Great Cactus of Confusion.”

Bananio raised an eyebrow. “The what now?”

Spudnick pointed to a distant, glowing cactus, who was sitting there like it was waiting for an award show. The cactus was wearing gold chains, had a boombox strapped to its body, and exuded the kind of swagger usually reserved for high school jocks who thought they were too cool for gym class.

“Oh no,” Bananio groaned. “Is that who I think it is?”

Spudnick nodded. “Yup. DJ Prickly, the self-proclaimed king of all cacti. He doesn’t let anyone pass without answering his riddles.”

Bananio smirked. “A cactus that spits riddles? Alright, let’s see what he’s got. I’ve got a PhD in random nonsense.”

The two of them approached the cactus, and DJ Prickly gave them the kind of stare only a cactus in sunglasses could give.

“Yo, yo, yo!” DJ Prickly said, his voice booming from the boombox. “You want to pass? You gotta answer my riddle. Fail, and you’ll dance the Macarena forever. That’s right. Forever.”

Bananio, now full of confidence, stepped forward. “Hit me with your riddle, DJ Prickly. I’m ready.”

DJ Prickly dropped the bass, and suddenly, the desert turned into a dance floor with strobe lights and neon colors. It was like Club Desert.

“Alright, riddle time! What has one foot in the air, is always late for a meeting, and has a caffeine addiction?” DJ Prickly challenged.

Spudnick scratched his head. “Uhhh… a person who’s late for work?”

“Nope!” DJ Prickly snapped his fingers. “It’s a clock on a coffee table, bro! A clock! You gotta think outside the box!”

Bananio stared blankly at the cactus. “I... I’m sorry, what?”

DJ Prickly laughed, his voice somehow echoing like it was coming from the inside of a whole stadium. “You gotta think, man! You wanna get past me? You gotta get creative!”

Bananio, clearly feeling the heat of the challenge, straightened up. “Alright, alright. You want creativity? I’ve got this.”

“Here comes the real riddle,” Bananio said dramatically, as he struck a pose.

“Alright, DJ—what has no arms, no legs, but can totally crush your soul in five seconds flat?”

DJ Prickly squinted. “That’s easy. A potato?”

Bananio grinned. “Nah, bro. A bad Wi-Fi connection when you’re trying to stream the latest season of your favorite show.”

Spudnick burst out laughing so hard, he fell off his skateboard and tumbled into a cactus. DJ Prickly froze, then slowly nodded. “Alright, alright. You win. You’ve got my respect. Go on and find that Fridge of Eternity, banana. But remember—nothing is what it seems in this desert. Except the Wi-Fi. It’s always terrible.”

With that, DJ Prickly waved them on, and the lights and music died down, leaving them standing in the now-quiet desert.

Bananio turned to Spudnick with a grin. “Well, that was easy. On to the next challenge. I think I saw a taco stand in the distance…”

And thus, their adventure continued, though not without many more random challenges, including an encounter with a salsa-loving llama, an awkward standoff with a group of aggressive seagulls, and the greatest philosophical debate between Bananio and a talking piece of toast.

But that… well, that’s a story for another chapter.

+_+

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