Chapter 3: Answering the Call

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The days after the rally battered Kevin like a ceaseless rain, the minions' words of defiance and justice seeping into his mind, swelling the parched reservoirs of hope almost to bursting. Beneath the sagging eaves of his existence, their fiery call to action had sparked an awakening. He found himself haunted by the visions they conjured of the world made new – where minions strode freed from bonds, and bananas overflowed for all.

When he could stand the four walls of inaction no longer, Kevin slipped away under cover of night to the minions' secret meeting place, guided by whispered rumors in the streets. He came upon a battered door in an alley grim and knocked with a hesitant hand. The hollow clanging reverberated down the narrow walls, conspicuous, daring.

A slit opened, bespeaking suspicion. "What's the password?" came the rough demand.

"Uh...bananas?" Kevin ventured, cursing his ignorance.

But the door swept open, revealing a grinning minion with a red bandana. "Close enough, brother! Get yourself inside."

In the cramped interior, Kevin found himself among the swirling fervor of the uprising. Minions distributed leaflets, hammered protest signs, heatedly debated tactics and philosophy. In the corner he spied the fire-tongued leaders from the rally, berating, exhorting, their eyes blazing with visionary light. When they caught sight of him, they broke off and approached, appraising.

"Well well, the wayward brother returns to the fold!" said the head minion. "Our words inspired you, yes?"

Kevin nodded, feeling the unfamiliar burn of conviction stir within. "Very inspire! What you said about seizing means of villainy and bananas for all – I want to help!"

The leader swept an arm around Kevin's shoulder, anchoring him amidst the swirling tumult. "That's the spirit, comrade! Together we will storm the gates and bring ruin to our oppressors!"

He turned to address the fevered throng. "Comrades! A new ally joins our crusade! Let us welcome Comrade Kevin!"

The answering cheers enveloped Kevin like a cleansing rain. At last, he had found his purpose.

In the days that followed, he devoted himself wholly to the cause, heart and body and sinew. He proselytized in hovels and hideaways, stoking the embers of unrest. He inked impassioned leaflets challenging minions to awake. He stood sentinel over their midnight gatherings, guarding against the bootheels of tyranny. For the first time, he tasted the dignity of struggle, the bitter nourishment of bonding against unjust fate.

Until the day the leaders revealed their long-awaited plan to raid the central banana warehouse, stockpiling fuel for the rebellion's engine. Kevin readily volunteered to face the risks. And so as darkness fell, their solemn brigade advanced through the cramped alleys toward the imposing target, each minion girded for the trials to come...

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