Ever since I was a child, I have been slightly afraid of bananas. That certain fruit seems so unnatural amongst its more conventional apple, pear, and grape counterparts, and the consumption, presence, or mention of bananas makes me feel unclean and immoral. Well, one day, I was watching Spongebob when something strange happened. The television froze on one still frame of a wide-eyed Spongebob staring at the camera, while distortion blared in the background. I went over to behind my TV to check the wires; everything seemed to be in place. At that point, the doorbell rang, and an ominous feeling came over me. Opening that door may lead to a barrel full of evils waiting to emerge, I thought. Regardless, I opened the door. And there it was. The being that would later torment me into madness. The monkey! Not just any monkey, but one with a chef's hat rested upon its head! I noticed it had the mangled wires to my television's outdoor satellite in its paws. Suppressing rage strong enough to knock out Russell Crowe for 90 minutes, I asked this monkey what it had come here for. "I'mma be Pans, your new baking monkey. I hear word that you're not the best cook in town, so I figured you could use a hand, or maybe a paw", it described in a laid-back, low voice. With that, Pans strutted on into my home, but I didn't stop him; the prospect of having a primate prepare meals for me was worth considering, you see. "So then, Pans, what's your specialty?", I asked that monkey. Pans' eyes turned completely white, and he started hovering above the ground. Then it became clear to me that this monkey was HAUNTED! "Why that's funny you should ask!", Pans said, now in a faux-Gilbert Gottfried voice, "My specialty is tostones! That's a Puerto Rican dish that's basically FRIED BANANAS! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!" That haunted baking monkey had tormented me more than I could endure, and all I could do as what was left of my sanity shriveled away was to bellow at the top of my lungs, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"