Disclaimer: I deny any and all possession of the characters featured in this segment. I rent. I also do not own said crack song. The dancing banana does.
Oh boy, I just had to write this! Listening to the song and dance set me off! But I would consider this more of a drabble, personally. A crack-marinated drabble.
But I think I've dealt enough damage to everyone's favorite Kaiser. How's about we change the target? To...say...
"PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME!"
"...And that, my fellow scientist duelists, is how logic applies to dueling! Don't you see? It's all relative!" Bastion Misawa slapped his ruler onto the blackboard behind him, marred with chalk drawings of complex formulas. He pushed his spectacles up from the bridge of his nose (don't bother to ask where those came from, because I've no clue).
The scientists whom had all congregated from across the globe was thrown into an uproar! The whole lot of them stood on their feet to clap for this brilliant young mind, shouting astounded words of praise such as, "Of course! Brilliant! It all makes sense! Superlative, Professor Misawa-stein!"
Bastion only tugged on the collars of his white lab coat as modestly as he could. "Why, of course, I'm right! Aren't I always?"
It was then that the room was suddenly graced with the presence of the most world-renowned logical crone, Dr. Eisenstein, his white frizzly hair protruding in all directions. He came limping to the young one's side, a cane supporting his weight.
"Bastion Misawa-stein," the old man wheezed in his thick, intellectual accent, "I cannot possibly describe in words how proud I am of you! And just for being the most logical duelist, after myself, I am here to present you...the most honorable Nobel Duelist Prize!"
Bastion thought he could feel tears coming into his eyes. All his life he had dreamt of winning the most honorable Nobel Prize. And now here it was: his most wildest dream was, at long last, coming true! He could barely contain himself.
"Oh no, really! I-I couldn't!" he pleaded, although still holding out his hands to collect the award.
"I say nay, my young lad! You rightfully earned it, and so you shall recieve!" the old man shook his head, proceeding to pull something out from behind him.
What else would you expect young Bastion to do? Holding out his hands and wiggling his fingers, he beamed. "Oh, what the heck? I'll take it off your hands! Oh gosh, I've got so many people to thank for this moment-"
Plop!
Startled, he opened his eyes once again. Hold on: was it just him, or did Dr. Eisenstein just place a sandwich into his palms?? Where was the Prize??
"Huh? Ehm, pardon me, Eisenstein, but I believe there is a mistake. Where's the Nobel Prize? You gave me a sandwich..." He paused to lift one slice up to peek at the sticky contents. "Hey! This isn't just any sandwich, it's-"
You won't believe what Eisenstein did next: before Bastion could finish, he tore off his lab coat, revealing that he had been wearing a yellow rubber banana suit underneath this entire time!
"Thhhaaaaaat's right, my boy! You know what that means, don't you?" Suddenly, the old crone began shaking his hips side to side, and turning his wrists high in the air, while chanting:
"It's peanut butter jelly time,
Peanut butter jelly time,
Peanut butter jelly time!!"
Every last man and woman of science across the globe all fell into step, tearing off their coats to expose their own banana-shaped suits and dancing along with the leader!
"Way ya at? Way ya at?
Way ya at? Way ya at?
"Now there ya go! There ya go!
There ya go! There ya go!
"Peanut butter jell-lly, peanut butter jell-lly!
Peanut butter jell-lly, peanut butter jell-lly!"
Bastion fell backward on his heels. What in the world?! This was supposed to be a science convention, not a lunatic congregation! His first instinct was to turn and run for the hills, if it hadn't been for the fact that Eisenstein had proceeded to whack him upside the rear with a baseball bat.
"Dooo a peanut butter jelly, a peanut butter jelly,
A peanut butter jelly with a baseball bat!
A peanut butter jelly, a peanut butter jelly,
A peanut butter jelly with a baseball bat!"
"OW! OW! OW! OW! OUCH!! Okay, okay! Keep the Nobel Prize and the- OW!- sandwich! I'm getting out of here! WAAAAHHH!!" Without any hesitation, he zipped over the desk of chemical vats and didn't dare to look back, with the ruler still in hand.
But the banana people had other plans. Leaping out of their seats, they all pranced after him, shaking their wrists high in the air and shrieking back at him:
"Way ya at? Way ya at?
Way ya at? Way ya at?
"Now there ya go! There ya go!
There ya go! There ya go!
"Peanut butter jell-lly, peanut butter jell-lly!
Peanut butter jell-lly, peanut butter jell-lly!"
"This is madness!" our young, terrified poindexter panted. "How can all th-this be happening? It's impractical, illogical! Unscientific-"
BAM! BAM! BAM!
He skidded to a halt. Three gargantuan sandwiches, dripping pasty peanut butter and sticky jelly (which was strawberry-flavored, by the way; he hated strawberry) fell from the ceiling and blocked the exit. He dropped the ruler posthaste.
Instantly, straight from the slices of whole-wheat bread, sprung an army of a thousand and one miniature banana men, flashing huge, inhuman grins and tap-dancing into a circle around Misawa, singing in shrill, fruity tones:
"Now break it down, and freeze!
Break it down and freeze!
Break it down and freeze!
Break it down and freeze!"
From the mad yellow troupe looming from behind:
"Way ya at? Way ya at?
Way ya at? Way ya at?
"There ya go! There ya go!
There ya go! There ya go!"
Now the whole lot of them were screaming in a chorus:
"Peanut butter jelly! Peanut butter jelly!
Peanut butter jelly! Peanut butter jelly!
"Now tic-tac-toe! Tic-tac-toe!
Tic-tac-toe! Tic-tac-toe!"
Bastion thought he was bleeding from the eardrums by this time. He fell down to his knees. "Stop it! No more! You-you all can't be real! None of this! Where's my happy place, where's my happy place??"
The deranged Eisenstein stepped forward, his tongue hanging out.
"Join us, join us, join us, join us!
One of us! One of us! One of us! One of us!"
It was right then and there that Misawa could feel as though his skin was being stretched from his being...gradually morphing from simple, clear flesh to a yellowish and much more rubbery consistancy!
He was being shaped into a banana!
"Peanut butter jelly! Peanut butter jelly!
Peanut butter jelly! Peanut butter jelly!"
"No...no, no, NO! I-I don't want to be turned into a fruit! I haven't even gotten the chance to become the world's best scientific duelist! Please, I beg of you! Let me be! LET ME BE!!"
"AAAAAHHHH!!"
Bastion shot upward in the snap of a finger. Beads of sweat dotted his cube-shaped forehead here and there, and he was gasping as if he was a fish out of water.
Shaking like a leaf, he looked up to peer into an active computer screen. He had been working on a formula to tweak each of his various decks the night before. Apparently, he must've snoozed off.
He wiped his crown with his sleeve...of his yellow jacket. "Ohhh, phew! It was only a dream. I need to quit falling asleep in front of the computer, by George! Hang on...my blazer...it's yellow...oh no..."
Guess who Pharoah dragged in next? The door slamming against the wall, pudgy little Pharoah crept in, with Jaden following behind, wearing a broad, foolish grin, and carrying a plate.
"Gooood morning, Bastion!" he cheered. "Say, what're you doing in front of the computer? You didn't come down for breakfast..."
Silence.
"Uhh...Bastion? Hell-ooo?"
More silence.
Shrugging it off, Jaden bent down to Bastion's level. "Well, either way, Pharoah and I thought you were hungry. Sooo, we made you a little snack." He set the plate on the keyboard. "Bon appetit, buddy!"
The Ra student needed only to glance down. To his utmost shock and horror, there sitting on that said plate was...
the wicked peanut butter and jelly sandwich!!
He felt an eyelid fall into a violent twitching spell. No, it can't be...this was no dream!
"Hope you don't mind chunky PB! Oh, and I couldn't find any grape jelly, so I had to improvise with the strawberry kind. Still, I know you'll like it, right? Peanut butter jelly time!"
Jaden didn't exactly get the reaction he was anticipating. Hastily, Bastion hopped to his feet, peeled the yellow blazer and shirt, only to toss it across the room, and shriek, "NO! No more peanut butter jelly time!! Keep your stupid sandwich! I DON'T WANT TO BE A DANCING BANANA!!"
Just like that, he climbed over the windowsill and proceeded to jump out of the open window. How fortunate that a clump of bushes was here to cushion his fall. That is, if you don't count on the ill-tempered squirrels that had been occupying it first.
"Ahhhh! Help, the banana men! They've seized me!!"
Jaden and the cat watched the commotion from the sill. As they caught a final glimpse of their friend before vanishing on the horizon, Jaden cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted,
"Hey! You could've just said that you were allergic to peanut butter!"
END!
If this left you the impression that I despise Bastion...I do not. I just hadn't used him in any of my story fictions yet, so I thought it'd be nice if I shined the lime light on his brainy square-shaped head...in my own special way. (it is square-shaped! Am I the only one to notice that?)
I've got queer means of expressing affection for those who otherwise don't get any.
...Zane, you might be expecting company in the Emo Corner.