What comes after His Banana? Technically, that would be me. Before you assume I’m a potassium sucking harlot, let me explain…
I didn’t have time for relationships, especially not with someone like Miles Chamberson. But considering my circumstances, I didn’t really have a choice.
Yes, he was the kind of offspring only generations of exceptionally attractive people could create. Practically dripping with so much perfection you could choke on it.
Then again, I was almost certain he was certifiably insane.
Within a few minutes of meeting him, he was already posing as a nude model for my clay sculpture class in a failed attempt to expose himself to me.
So when he handed me a banana, it was almost normal by comparison.
And after his banana found its way into my mouth, well… I wish I could say that was where the saga of Miles Chamberson and I ended.