LEGAL STUFF: Sonic the Hedgehog and Ivo Robotnik and all related characters belong to Sega, DIC and Archie Comics. Music and lyrics for "I'm Going Bananas" are ©1990 Madonna, all rights reserved.









FOREWORD:

Alright. Fine. I admit it. I wrote this because I needed some serious mental laxative. It's hard being so dark and twisted and demented all the time--it really is. As a result... this story came into being. This is perhaps my goofiest piece of writing EVER. I hope somebody else finds it funny, 'cause I laughed myself blind while I was writing it.

Oh, yeah -- and I'd like to dedicate this piece to fellow Sonic fanfic author Shychick, whose massive portfolio of humorfics more or less inspired me to write this in the first place. She's much better at this stuff than I am, so just smile and nod.

Okay, I'm not telling you anything more until you read the story.

So HA!!!

Enjoy.

SJZ







___________________________

Stephen Zacharus
EVERYBODY'S GOING BANANAS!!!

___________________________





"Snively, give me a report of this afternoon's capture."

Ivo Robotnik stared down at his puny, needlenosed minion from his favorite chair in the control room. The little bastard wore a wide grin, looking particularly pleased with himself. Maybe he'd actually done something useful for a change, Robotnik thought.

He stared at Snively impatiently. "Well?"

Something close to sinister laughter managed to escape from Snively's lips. "Uncle, you're *never* going to believe this!"

"I'll never believe *what*, Snively?"

A pause. A long, dramatic pause. When Snively's voice came, it was a low, dry whisper.

"We've captured the Hedgehog!"

Robotnik could have sworn he'd heard a creepy organ chord a few moments later. He shook it off and directed his attention back to his minion. "Snively, is this true?"

More dramatic music. Thunder.

"Yes! Unspeakably true, my lord of lard! The one and only Sonic the Hedgehog is finally within our evil clutches!"

"Great balls of cholesterol! This is the moment I've waited *years* for, Snively!!! Do you know what this means?!"

His minion appeared suddenly puzzled. "Why… no, actually. What *does* this mean?"

"You cretin. It means that the Hedgehog is at our very disposal!"

"You mean we're gonna kill 'im?"

"Not yet." The enormous tyrant rose from his chair with a maddeningly anxious gleam in his eyes, practically prancing to the security monitor. "We'll *torture* him first…"

On the central security monitor, Robotnik could see the puny Freedom Fighter crumpled pathetically in his prison cell, unconscious. The overlord grinned. "Ooh, Hedgehog, how I've waited for this moment!"

And he laughed--a slow, deep chortle that rose swiftly and steadily into an evil, maniacal, unrelenting cackle. A crescendo of terrifying music accompanied his laugh triumphantly.

Ivo stopped laughing. "Snively, where the hell is that music coming from?"

A shrug. "How should I know?"

"No matter. It is now time to put my sinister plan into action!" Robotnik dove into a small cabinet just underneath the array of monitors and emerged with… a compact disc.

Snively raised an eyebrow. "Is that a CD?"

"A brilliant deduction, Snively."

"Of what? Terrible, grating, high-pitched noises that will drive our captive clinically insane?"

"Nope. Even better than that."

"*What*, then?"

Robotnik smiled an evil smile and held up the CD. "It's *Madonna*! AHH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAA!!!!!"

The organ music swelled to a dramatic climax and abruptly ended.

________________________


Sonic awoke to the incessant throbbing of his own headache. He just *loved* mornings. Well, at least he could look forward to some hot breakfast, courtesy of Rotor and Bunnie…

Oh. Wait.

He'd been captured hadn't he?

Shit.

Sonic turned over groggily and observed his surroundings--a sterile cube of smooth, uninterrupted white space. Very homey. Then again, Robotnik never *was* much of an interior decorator.

"I see you've awakened, Hedgehog," spoke a voice from nowhere. "Sleep well?"

"Just peachy," Sonic muttered, rubbing the back of his sore head. "Nice of you to ask, 'Buttnik."

"That's 'Lord Robotnik' to *you*, you discourteous little shit. Since I've grown weary of exposition at my age, I'll get right to the point. You should know that before we fillet you on the execution block, we plan to torture you mercilessly."

"Good to know."

"Isn't it? However, this will not be your typical torture scenario, Hedgehog. No physical torture, anyway. This will torture you *psychologically*. Speaking of which, how's your head feeling?"

Sonic frowned. "Sore."

"That's because we've surgically implanted a microphone device in your inner-auditory system. In my hand I hold a compact disc containing a little song that I'd like you to listen to. Enjoy!"

Silence.

When the music came, Sonic wasn't quite sure what to think. The volume gradually increased until the song was all but emitting from his very body.

"What the hell is *this*?"

Spanish horns. Jazzy piano. Conga drums and acoustic guitars.



[Hola! Ese bato loco!]



The woman's voice was nasal and in a fake Spanish accent. She began singing.



[I'm going bananas,]
[And I feel like my poor little mind is being devoured by piranhas,]
[For I'm going bananas!]

[I'm non compos mentes,]
[And I feel like a tooth being drilled, a nerve being killed by a dentist,]
[For I'm non compos mentes!]

[Who knows?]
[Could be the tropic heat]
[Or something that I eat,]
[That makes me gonzo.]
[I do carry on so, for I'm going bananas,]
[Someone book me a room in the hot haciendo with all my mananas]
[For I'm going bananas!]

[I'm going meshuga!]
[All day long there's a man in my brain incessantly playing "Booga wooga",]
[But I'm going meshuga!]

[There's bats in my belfry!]
[Won't you make sure this straightjacket's tight,]
[Otherwise I might get myself free.]
[Yes, there's bats in my belfry!]

[Who knows?]
[Could be the wine I drink]
[Or else the way I think]
[That make me gonzo.]
[Oh, Doctor Alonzo says I'm going bananas,]
[Someone get me a bed in the "Casa de Loco" for all my mananas,]
[For I'm going bananas!]
[Yes, I'm going bananas.]
[Si, I'm going *bananas*!!!]

[Ay ay ay ay ay ay ay!]



Sonic blinked. The song was over.

Well, that wasn't so bad. A little… weird. But not bad. Kind of funny, actually. The song couldn't have been much longer than a minute and a half. He found himself wondering how it even fit into--



[Hola! Ese bato loco!]



Crazed laughter emerged over the intercom. "Surprise, Hedgehog! I have the CD player on *repeat*! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HAAA!!!"



[I'm going bananas,]
[And I feel like my poor little mind is being devoured by piranhas,]
[For I'm going bananas!]



"What the hell are you trying to pull, 'Buttnik?"



[I'm non compos mentes,]
[And I feel like a tooth being drilled, a nerve being killed by a dentist,]
[For I'm non compos mentes!]



"It's an experiment, by dear hedgehog. I'm curious to see the effects of this song upon a mammalian subject when played nonstop for an extended period of time."



[Who knows?]
[Could be the tropic heat]
[Or something that I eat,]
[That makes me gonzo.]
[I do carry on so, for I'm going bananas,]
[Someone book me a room in the hot haciendo with all my mananas]
[For I'm going bananas!]



"You're crazy, Robotnik!"

"Perhaps. But at least I have a sense of humor. The next several hours should provide some interesting behavior for me to observe."



[I'm going meshuga!]
[All day long there's a man in my brain incessantly playing "booga wooga",]
[But I'm going meshuga!]

[There's bats in my belfry!]
[Won't you make sure this straightjacket's tight,]
[Otherwise I might get myself free.]
[Yes, there's bats in my belfry!]

[Who knows?]
[Could be the wine I drink]
[Or else the way I think]
[That make me gonzo.]
[Oh, Doctor Alonzo says I'm going bananas,]
[Someone get me a bed in the "Casa de Loco" for all my mananas,]
[For I'm going bananas!]
[Yes, I'm going bananas.]
[Si, I'm going *bananas*!!!]

[Ay ay ay ay ay ay ay!]



Ten minutes later, the song had somehow lost its novelty. Sonic wanted to rip that audio device out of his head and smash it to pieces.



[Ole!]



Twenty minutes later, Sonic was throwing himself against the padded white walls, pleading for the music to stop.



[…could be the tropic heat, or something that I eat…]



An hour later, Sonic was quite certain that *he* was going bananas, too.



[…won't you make sure this straightjacket's tight…]



"Enjoying the music, Hedgehog?" asked Robotnik's voice over the intercom. "You're putting on quite a show."

Sonic didn't answer. He'd collapsed in the center of the room: twitching, groaning, pounding his forehead into the padded floor.



[…someone get me a bed in the "Casa de Loco" for all my mananas…]



The hedgehog lifted his head and released an horrific, bloodcurdling scream.



[…that makes me gonzo…]



"No more… no more… no… more… no more…"



[Si, I'm going *bananas*!!!]



Two hours later, Sonic was practically convulsing with insanity. Before long, he'd slipped into restless unconsciousness.



[…all day long there's a man in my brain incessantly playing "booga wooga"…]

[Ay ay ay ay ay ay ay!!!]



Beat.

Beat.

Beat beat beat.

When Sonic awoke, he found that his body was moving in subconscious rhythm to the music. Something burned from deep within him, consumed him. He found that he had an insatiable thirst for…

Dancing?

What the hell, he decided. He got up and started to boogie.



[Hola! Ese bato loco!]



Three hours later, Sonic was having the time of his life. He never knew he could dance! Who knew a guy could have this much fun in Robotropolis?

He began singing along.

"I'm non compos mentes, and I feel like a tooth being drilled, a… something something… dentist!!! For I'm non compos mentes!"

He bounced from wall to wall with crazed, morbid glee.

"I'm going bananaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas!!! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!! Could be dee tropeek heat! Or sometheeng that I eeet that make me gonzo!!! I do carry on so…"

And then--suddenly, just as the song was ending--a panel in the wall opened to reveal an army of several dozen SWATbots.

"Oh, no! They're gonna kill meee….. heheheheheheheheheee!!!"

Sonic couldn't stop laughing--especially since he noticed that the SWATbots weren't carrying guns. Actually, each were carrying a pair of maracas.



[Hola! Ese bato loco!]



"OLE!!!" Sonic screamed.

The music started up again.



[I'm going bananas,]
[And I feel like my poor little mind is being devoured by piranhas,]
[For I'm going bananas!]



The SWATbots lined up and began marching around the room in sync with the rhythm--conga-line style, shaking their maracas. Sonic joined them, laughing crazily.



[Who knows?]
[Could be the wine I drink]
[Or else the way I think]
[That make me gonzo.]
[Oh, Doctor Alonzo says I'm going bananas,]
[Someone get me a bed in the "Casa de Loco" for all my mananas,]
[For I'm going bananas!]



Just then, someone else burst into the room--Robotnik. Only…

Sonic exploded into his most violent fit of laughter yet. Robotnik was dressed in a hula skirt and coconut bra, his head topped with a four-foot pile of fruit. Kiwi! Guava! Oranges! Pears! Tangerine!

Yes. Bananas, too.

"OLE!!!" Robotnik cheered.

And so the conga line continued.

________________________


Robotnik and Snively were watching Sonic dance around on the security monitors. He looked as though he were dancing in a conga line. But with whom?

"What do you suppose the Hedgehog has hallucinated, Snively?"

"Beats me. Must be one hell of a trippy song."

"That it is, Snively. Be glad that we can't hear it."

Sonic faced the camera, dancing the salsa. "Something something… GONZO!!! Oh Doctor Robotnik seez I'm goingk bananas… Si, I'm goingk bananas!!!"

Robotnik turned to Snively. "We are taping these observations, aren't we?"

Snively checked the VCR. "Affirmative!"

"Excellent. Remind me to send a copy of this tape to Knothole with their private invitation to the Hedgehog's execution ceremony."

"I'll make a note of it, sir."

Sonic was laughing maniacally over the security monitor. "All day long there's a man in my brain incessantly playing 'booga wooga'!!! Ay ay ay ay ay ay ay!!! OLE!!!"

Snively turned to the control panel that rested beside the array of security equipment. "His behavior certainly has me curious as to what that song sounds like…" He reached for a small, red switch.

"NO!!! SNIVELY, DON'T TOUCH THAT!!! IT WILL TRANSMIT THE MUSIC THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE COMPLEX!!! YOU'LL KILL US ALL!!!"

But it was too late.

Snively flipped the switch.

Robotnik covered his ears.



[Hola! Ese bato loco!]



"Snively, after this is over, do remind me to BEAT THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF YOU."

"As you wish, sir."



[I'm going bananas,]
[And I feel like my poor little mind is being devoured by piranhas,]
[For I'm going bananas!]

[I'm non compos mentes,]
[And I feel like a tooth being drilled, a nerve being killed by a dentist,]
[For I'm non compos mentes!]

[Who knows?]
[Could be the tropic heat]
[Or something that I eat,]
[That makes me gonzo.]
[I do carry on so, for I'm going bananas,]
[Someone book me a room in the hot haciendo with all my mananas]
[For I'm going bananas!]



Strangely, Snively couldn't help himself. He found himself driven by the irresistible desire to dance.

"OLE!!!" Snively sang.



[Si, I'm going *bananas*!!!]

[Ay ay ay ay ay ay!]



"Cha cha cha…"







END.







________________________


POST-FIC AUTHOR'S NOTE:

If you haven't listened to Madonna's delightfully insane "I'm Going Bananas"--you SHOULD. Immediately! You'll find it on the 1990 album "I'm Breathless" or on any MP3 network (it's nothing to download, since it's only about a minute and a half long). Do yourself a favor and put it on repeat play. Listen to it for at least an hour, nonstop. I guarantee that you'll start doing some crazy shit.

I should know. I wrote *this*!!!

Ah, the sweet song of therapy...

Later.

SJZ