The Minion Revolution

Chapter 4: Raid on the Warehouse

The night was colder than a witch's teat as Kevin and the others slunk towards the warehouse, their breath puffing out in tight little clouds. Kevin's heart was thumping away inside his chest like a big tribal drum, even though he tried to keep the beat soft so as not to wake the ghosts that surely haunted these shadows. 

Up ahead, the warehouse squatted malignantly, looking about as welcoming as a floater in your drinking water. It was lit up tighter than a melon-headed demon clown's funeral, searchlights slicing to and fro. Somewhere in there were bananas – brought in from far off lands, kept prisoner, no doubt turning black with rot before they even left the greedy villain's lips. Well, they were going to set those poor bananas free tonight. The minion revolution left no fruit behind.

They bellied up along the razor wire fence and Kevin felt it plucking at his overalls, hungry for the soft flesh beneath. The fence seemed to whisper watch yourself, watch yourself now, as they snipped an opening and slithered through. Just then a searchlight beam swung round, for a moment turning the night into day as it seared down on them. 

Kevin froze, feeling rooted to the spot, thinking this was surely the end of their caper and probably his life to boot. But the light soon danced away and they were swallowed back up by the darkness. They crept towards the door, quiet as mice looking to steal the cheese. The leader tried the handle and of course it was locked up tighter than a chastity belt. Well, they'd come prepared. Out came the lockpicks and gadgets, like robbers' magic wands.

As they worked, Kevin fancied he heard something new in the wind. The whispering shadows now seemed to chant bananas, bananas, bananas! The warehouse held the treasure they sought, they need only be bold enough to seize it. And they would be. The minion revolution stopped for no door, no lock, no bootheel on their necks. For inside, the bananas were waiting...

With a final click, the lock sprang open. They were in! Moving stealthy as cats now, they slid through the door into a kingdom of potassium goodness. Endless rows of boxes and crates under hard fluorescent light, all filled with beautiful overripe bananas. The smell was overwhelming, pushing through Kevin's nostrils and latching directly onto the reward centers of his brain. 

The very air seemed to vibrate with the promise of the fruit's sweet mushy goodness sliding down their gullets. Oh, but they had to stay focused, fill their sacks quickly and retreat before the guards came. This was to fuel the revolution, not just their hunger.

Working fast, they loaded up every burlap sack and stole container they had brought. The bananas were soon overflowing, little waterfall cascades of fruit tumbling to the floor. In his greed, Kevin was hardly minding his surroundings anymore. Then – a shout went up! They whirled to see minion guards pouring in, dressed in riot gear and looking mad enough to chew horseshoes. Uh-oh, time to blow this popsicle stand.

The revolutionaries scrammed every which way, banana bunches overflowing in their arms as the furious guards gave chase. Crackling shock rods whizzed past Kevin's tender melon head. He pumped his tiny legs for all they were worth, his comrades' labored breathing and shouts of "Run! Split up! Scatter!" echoing all around. They burst out into the cool night air, the streets unfurling before them like dark tongues.

 Kevin resisted the urge to cram a banana straight into his gullet, focusing on the job of hightailing it down the alleys with his payload. They ducked and wove, losing themselves amidst the city's twisting intestines, until finally the alleyways vomited them up to safety.

Gasping, Kevin slumped against a gritty brick wall, peering down at the bananas in his arms – their hard-won spoils. A smile creased his face. Their message was clear today: the uprising was coming, whether the villains liked it or not. And he, Kevin, had been a key part of it. 

His blood still buzzed from the danger and drama of it all. Why, it made him feel alive like he hadn't felt in years! As he caught his breath, the shadows once again seemed to chant: Bananas, bananas, bananas! The call of the coming revolution. There would be another day, another risk, another victory.

 For tonight, they would feast.