The Manana Gala

Content Warning

This article contains graphic banana violence that is somewhat close to human violence. I know, I'm confused too.

Bin could smell him. That potassium pansy. A monster, who had killed his childhood friend Breanna. The Manana. Despite the myriad guests pouring into the hall, the array of freshly cooked food, and smell of his own cigarette— the Manana's stench filled his nostrils. It made his blood boil. He chewed on his cigarette, crushing it idly between his teeth until the entire thing had disappeared from his lips— drawing startled glances from a few nearby guests. He grinned at them, his teeth still covered in tobacco. "Good evening to you." He said, and walked across the hall. Where is he? He glanced around, looking for the tall, bright yellow figure. The man's half god-dang banana, how hard can he be to spot?! He muttered under his breath. The entire gala was thrown specifically to get him to appear— because this was the night that Bin would finally peel the Manana.
All those years, and he never forgot. Bin never forgave him, either. At the age of 13, he and his friend Breanna were playing in the woods, as they often did. Unbeknownst to them, the Manana had been living in these very same woods— and he had just molted, leaving his giant discarded peel in the middle of one of many trails. As kids are wont to do, the pair ran through the forest as they played— swerving between trees and narrowly missing rocks that could trip them up— until Breanna came upon the Manana's peel. With a quick, sudden scream, and a great cracking sound as her head hit a nearby stone— it was over. Breanna had slipped on the peel, and died. Bin was scarred for life following this, never before had he witnessed such an unfortunate death at the hands of something unknown. Besides the various encounters before this one, of course. The Manana fled the forest after this, and Bin vowed that he would one day bring the half-banana, half-man to justice.
Bin had used the ACF's resources to track down the elusive figure, finally discovering him in San Francisco— where he lived as a street performer. Unfortunately there was another street performer who happened to look just like the Manana when in costume, who was now hospitalized in critical condition after an encounter with the vengeful Bin. Bin was undeterred, however— and began to plan a trap that only the real Manana would fall for. The plan was simple, throw an free entry gala, advertised as having the beautiful Womanana as a guest. Surely, the lonely Manana would jump at any opportunity to find another like him— of course, he was completely alone, there were no other human-banana hybrids. Regardless, the Manana would appear at the gala, only to discover that there was a performing band of chimpanzees in attendance— his greatest fear. The performers would circle around the hall, ensuring that the cryptid could not escape— allowing Bin to sneak through the crowd and poison him from behind, unseen. The perfect kill.
Only, it would be perfect were the Manana to have arrived on time— before the performance. He had to have been nearby— how else could his stench waft through the hall? Yet he was nowhere to be seen. Bin hurried to the hall's mezzanine for a better vantage point, shoving past an inebriated man as he did so.
"Wha-HEY PAL!" The man placed a pudgy paw on Bin's shoulder, pulling him back. "Are ya' gonna 'polgize?" He stared daggers into Bin's soul. Bin sighed, reached out an arm, and simply tapped the man on his forehead with his middle finger. His face contorted for a moment, displaying boiling rage before violently snapping into serenity. "Er...sorry." He said, released Bin, and walked away. Bin turned back towards the mezzanine, covering the now glowing ring on his finger with his other hand. As much as he despised anomalies, he had to admit they made great tools. Unfortunately, the ring had but one use— there was no backup plan should his target catch on. Behind him, he could hear the telltale trumpets which preceded the entrance of the simian performers. He quickly ascended the stairs, and leaned over a gaudily gold-clad balustrade to look over the crowd. What a thorn in my side— it's been years! That peelable plebian has to show up! The man thought as he swept his eyes over the crowd, stopping at every hint of yellow. Suits, dresses, lemon slices— no Manana. The chimps were beginning to dance into the hall. Bin gripped the balustrade in anger, his knuckles turning white.
Out of the corner of his eye— he saw him. At the entrance— just arrived— the dreaded Manana. The cryptid. The myth. A god-dang dead man. However— the fruit-man had already seen the chimps, and was beginning to back out of the hall.
"LOCK THE DOORS!" Bin yelled at the top of his lungs, and leapt from the mezzanine— landing on a bewildered couple's dinner. Without stopping to apologize, he got up and began shoving his way through the crowd towards the entrance.
"How dare y-" Bin didn't even glance at whoever had grabbed his arm, he simply punched them in the throat and continued on his way. He plucked a shrimp from another guest as he shoved past them, popping it into his mouth as he kicked a table out of his path. The Manana glanced behind him— spotting the rampaging Bin clearing a path towards him— and began to run. At the entrance, a man in a black tailcoat was desperately begging security to apprehend Bin, tugging at their arms.
Bin shouted to them from across the hall "SHUT THE DOORS, NOW!" Being ACF personnel, they obliged the command— and swiftly shut the entrance just before the Manana could reach it. The cryptid beat against the door with closed fists as Bin approached. "Does the name "Breanna" mean anything to you?" The curved figure turned to face Bin, confusion and fear displayed on his face. "Wha-"
Bin's fist slammed into his face— finding it disturbingly malleable as his hand sunk into the man's peel. The Manana wasted no time in retaliating— and headbutted Bin with his stem. "You son of a—" Bin's fist found a home once more in the Manana's mug, cutting him short. "I'll gonna make Manana bread once I'm done with you!" Bin growled, digging his fingers into the Manana's eyes. Before Bin could do any notable damage, the Manana shoved him into a nearby table, sending shrimp and cocktails flying— one glass landing perfectly on the Manana's stem. One, two— three punches landed on Bin's face, the strikes hitting him with surprising force. "She deserved it!" The Manana yelled, landing another few hits on Bin. Bin grasped for the glass dangling from the figure's stem— another blow struck his face, sending him back down. He groaned, reaching forward once more until finally, his fingers wrapped around the cup's handle. He growled as he broke it against the Manana's side, knocking him onto the ground.
Bin wiped the blood from his nose and pinned the figure against the gold-flecked floor, flipping the broken glass in his hand so that its broken edge was on the underside of his fist. The Manana glared at him. "Everyone's watching, what do you think you're doing?!" Bin reeled back his hand. "Making a Manana split." and plunged the broken glass into the Manana's peel, tearing it open. The ripe smell of banana permeated the room, stronger than before— drawing the chimps away from their performance. Bin reeled back and plunged the glass again into the cryptid's heart. The Manana gasped, and coughed banana juice onto the floor. He barely managed to whisper "I...I don't...peel.....well...." He gasped again, and fell silent. Bin stood up, pulling out the glass and throwing it somewhere behind him.
A group of guests pushed and shoved one another to catch the glass, one woman used another as a jumping pad to reach up and catch it single-handed. "YEAH! I'll kill my nemesis nee~eeext!" She exclaimed, as the other guests sighed with disappointment. The chimps cautiously approached the corpse, sniffing it for a moment, before beginning to eat the delectable banana flesh within. Bin wiped the sweat from his brow, and turned towards the security personnel. "Do it." He said, pulling out a gas mask from within his suit, and donning it. The guards followed suit, and the hall began to fill with a blue fog.

---

That night, the news would report that the Myod Event Hall was plagued by a mold infestation, which they were able to sneak past health inspectors. The hall was to be closed, cleaned, and sold to new owners. Guests would report a shared dream, something insane about a giant banana man being killed by a man in a red suit— when supposed "evidence" was mentioned, none were able to produce the photos or videos they had claimed to take. What the news would not report, however, was that the mysterious "slip killer" that had been terrorizing San Francisco for years would disappear forever.