Banana Business
Marvin placed the bananas on the scales. “1.7 kilograms,” he said. “This is for the company…” He took two bunches off the scale and piled them on the stockpile next to him. “…and this is for me.” He looked about him and quickly pushed half a bunch down the front of his shorts. “The banana business. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this years ago,” he chuckled to himself. For the last eight months, Marvin had been working as a banana stock-taker for Ainsworth’s Banana Inc., a banana company on the Atherton Tableland in northern Queensland. And for the last seven and a half months, Marvin had been stealing bananas from the company and selling them from the boot of his car. He was making a tidy profit on top of his wages, and he had no intention of stopping. The banana business was much too lucrative.
At the end of his shift, Marvin made his way towards the car park. He would add today’s bananas to the stash in his boot. He checked his phone to see if he had any missed calls. He was expecting to hear from a potential buyer and he wanted to make a good impression. As he was looking down, he bumped into Mr. Ainsworth, his boss.
“Easy there, Cranford,” said Mr. Ainsworth.
“Sorry, sir,” Marvin replied. Mr. Ainsworth didn’t move.
“You know, Cranford,” he began. “I just wanted you to know what a bang-up job we think you’re doing. You’re -” Mr. Ainsworth stopped mid-sentence and looked down, noticing the bulge in Marvin’s shorts. “I say, Cranford, is that a bunch of ladyfingers in your pants?”
Marvin looked down and then looked back up at Mr. Ainsworth.
“No sir, I haven’t got any bananas on my person.”
“In that case,” he continued. “Wear a larger pair of trousers or an overcoat or something. Shit, son, you’ll have someone’s eye out.”
Marvin nodded frenetically. Mr. Ainsworth gave a single nod of the head in return and walked away.
That was close, Marvin thought when he got to his car. He opened the boot and removed the bananas from the front of his shorts.
“Just one more thing, Cranford,” came a voice from behind. Marvin spun around to see Mr. Ainsworth. His heart was pounding in his chest and his legs felt weak.
“What – what’s this?” asked Mr. Ainsworth, looking at the bananas in Marvin’s hand, then to his open boot. “You’ve been stealing from me? You little bastard!” he screeched. He lunged at Marvin and grabbed him by the throat. Marvin rammed the bunch of bananas into Mr. Ainsworth’s mouth, causing him to gag and loosen his grip.
“Time to split!” Marvin said to himself as jumped in his car and sped out of the car park. Looking in his rearview mirror, he saw that Mr. Ainsworth was giving chase in his Jaguar. Marvin accelerated over a speedbump and the bananas flew out of his boot, splattering onto Mr. Ainsworth’s windscreen. Trying to avoid the flying bananas, Mr. Ainsworth swerved sharply to the left and drove off the road, crashing into a palm tree. Marvin looked in his mirror and kept on driving. He started to smile, then giggle to himself. “Time to split,” he chortled, as he realised the pun. “Genius.” He broke into a fit of maniacal laughter as he drove south, without stopping, well into the night.
