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For the most part, it had been a boring day in Nuttytown. Sam at the fire station was stuck inside reading the newspaper all day long because no medical emergencies or fires happened. Grover the grocer sold a couple of popsicles and he didn't know what else because he was drunk but it wasn't much. Pete the police chief hadn't responded to anything all day and had fallen asleep in his squad car.

Yes indeed, it looked like another quiet day in Nuttytown. That was precisely what was running through Eric Twinge's mind as he entered through the door at 29 Acacia Road.

"'Ello, Mum!" trilled Eric as he entered through the door into his living room. "'Ow's the ol' 'omefront, eh, mam?" he asked. "Eric, have you developed a ridiculously overblown Cockney accent again?" his mother called from the kitchen. "So i' wol appear," said Eric, scratching his head.

"Take one of those blue pills on the counter," his mum told him. Eric did so. Then he sat down to watch his favorite Doctor Who serial, "The Talons of Weng-Chiang".

It is a universal fact that one can only be exposed to Tom Baker for certain periods of time, and such was the case here. Eric began to grow bored and reached for the remote. Suddenly, a news report broke in. Angela Rippon was wearing her Concerned News Anchor face.

"This just in," she said, in a voice that was concerned but graceful just like a murderer trying to prepare Thanksgiving dinner in front of his extended family without giving anything away. "There has been a robbery at Toby's Taxidermy, by the infamous ne'er-do-well Doctor Gloom! This town needs Bananaman!"

"Cor blimey!" shouted Eric, with his overblown Cockney accent still fully intact. "I got'a go 'elp 'em out in the downtowners!" And off he raced to the kitchen to find a banana.

As Eric peeled back the banana, he couldn't help but feel a bit strange. It was as if something was holding him back his head ached a bit and he couldn't breathe properly. Then he remembered that it was his allergies.

Taking a bite of the banana, Eric prepared for that glorious feeling of his veins pumping and bulging with blood and a spandex suit somehow forming on his body. But it didn't come. At least not all of it.

Then Eric noticed that his pants had gotten noticeably tighter but, rather than due to the enormous amount of spontaneous ab definition that was standard fare for becoming Bananaman, it was due to a big fourteen-inch cock sticking out of them. Then, at the worst time imaginable, his zipper gave way.

"O blimey!" shouted Eric, with a voice that had overtones of frustration, disappointment, and extreme arousal. "Wot em I supos'ta do wi' 'is piece o' shi' stickin' oot o' me pents?" It was getting out of control. His penis was getting girthier by the minute now it looked like a can of Pringles.

Then he put two and two together he had taken a Viagra!

Due to being a teenage boy, Eric knew full well the sensation before coming, and how to stave it off. Unfortunately, this knowledge came (heh) a bit too late, as the ol' Apollo 5 was about T-minus 5 seconds before launching into orbit. But an idea came to him with just one second left!

"Mebbe," he thought to himself, "if I poin' i' a' th' ceilin', it'll be pow'ful enough to break o' through!" And so he did. With baseball-bat-sized dick in hand, he pointed it towards the ceiling and prayed that his mother was staying put for the time being.

WHAM! The semen ejaculated right out of Eric's penis like a pornographical outtake from October Sky, bursting through the ceiling into the sky above. As Eric ran out the front door, cock flailing about, to watch the trajectory of his baby batter, he saw it go straight into the eye of a certain Doctor Gloom!

"Blimey, thanks 'a' Jesus tha's over," he thought with a relieved sigh. He had learned about believing in himself, that he was far more powerful than he thought. He didn't need a goofy hairstyle or a fancy superhero suit to be a real hero! All he needed was a penis the size of a tanker truck.

The End