Brian J. Mullis In Operation Banana Eater Delta

Chapter 3: Journey's End?

There it stood, the grand finale of my arduous journey—the factory where the saccharine essence of yellow bliss awaited me. It promised a taste of triumph, an extraordinary feat to be accomplished. In reality, I was just another soul whose life had veered off course, unable to exercise patience for the bananas to restock. And now, I faced the daunting prospect of causing harm to others, all for the sake of my desires. Before reaching the factory, I conducted a careful reconnaissance, ensuring that no prying eyes witnessed my impending arrival.

Armed guards, clad in yellow bodysuits resembling bananas, patrolled the premises, their high-powered assault rifles ever at the ready. The only way I could breach the fortress was through stealth or a full-frontal assault. And so, Brian J. Mullis made his fateful decision.

A thunderous BOOM reverberated through the air, followed by a blood-curdling scream.

"AAAAAAAAAAAA!"

At Mach 10 speed, I hurtled towards the factory, obliterating anything that dared stand in my way. Upon reaching the factory gate, I swiftly deployed a series of smoke bombs from my trusty arsenal, shrouding myself in a veil of concealment. As the banana guards scrambled to make sense of the chaos, I formulated a plan—a delicate balance of stealth and aggression. Armed with my reliable assault rifle equipped with an exceptionally handy silencer and a grenade launcher of unparalleled convenience, I ventured forth.

"Wow, thanks, Gravatt Firearms!" I muttered appreciatively.

Thus commenced my merciless onslaught, a ruthless reckoning for all who dared oppose me. Amidst the chaos and disarray I orchestrated with my smoke and explosions, I skillfully eliminated several guards, dispatching them without a whisper. Yet, I faced two significant challenges—the guards were often grouped together, and surveillance cameras pervaded every corner of the factory. It proved a daunting task to penetrate the inner sanctum. Nonetheless, after narrowly evading discovery on multiple occasions, I finally breached the factory's interior, beholding the full spectacle of yellow treasure.

There, I witnessed the life cycle of this delectable treat in its entirety. Bananas grew first, meticulously plucked by caring hands. Subsequently, they underwent a thorough cleansing process, where they were polished and washed to a radiant sheen. Each bunch received a sticker, then found its place within a crate, ready for shipment to local grocery stores. This presented me with two options: a boat or a truck. Should I choose the boat, I would secure both the bananas and a means to return home, provided I evaded capture. Opting for the truck, I would have to abscond with the bananas and enlist the aid of Sgt. Linda for a swift escape. Either choice meant confronting an army of guards and navigating a host of peculiar obstacles strewn in my path.

"Oh, the choices," I mused, grappling with the weight of my decision.