Some people can recall exactly where they were when Kennedy was shot. Others when Gazza cried. For me, on the eve of this particular historic event I was sitting in front of the television on my own. It was a Saturday night, and I was watching the Jonathan Ross show. You could argue that my life had already taken a somewhat downward turn at this point, but alas the worst was yet to come. After some inevitably sycophantic banter with a vacuous guest star, he turned to face the camera.
And then it happened. From under the desk, he whipped it out.
It was surprisingly long and a little bit more curved than I’d imagined, but there was no mistaking what it was. He waved it about for a bit and fondled it to demonstrate its properties to the audience, before inviting them to tell him more about it.
But I already knew exactly what it was.
In that crushing moment of misery I saw my life as it could have been flash before my eyes. Super yachts, fast cars, STAFF. All gone. Alone and in pain, I screamed at the television, “IT’S A BANANA CASE! IT’S A BANANA CASE!”
There it was in its shining yellow phallic glory. Somebody had beaten me to it, someone had invented the product which was to line the shelves of pound stores across the land. Someone had invented my invention.
Now, there are those who may argue that a solid plastic banana case is entirely unnecessary since bananas already come with their own cases designed by Mother Nature herself. The important point to make here is that those people are idiots who are wrong in a number of ways.
Firstly they clearly haven’t ever actually tried to transport a banana using anything other than a cushioned throne. If they had they’d know the anguish of finding an empty blackened carcass at the bottom of the bag, its former contents now inching into every orifice over all your belongings, tingeing them forever with the sickly sweet smell of infant penicillin.
Secondly, they are people who use the term ‘Mother Nature’ and should therefore not be given the time of day. They probably call it ‘making love’ too.
In the ten years since the harrowing Jonathan Ross incident I’ve held firm and refrained from purchasing a banana case, as a matter of principle. But it’s only a matter of time before the transparent toaster becomes a reality too. At that point I may give in and buy both, but only in order to create a ceremonial pyre using the toaster to watch the evil banana bastard melt and wipe its smug sideways grin from the Earth.