bananafishdog

The details of bananafishdog's black life and dubious "death" are written in certain books and pamphlets, for the overly curious or foolish to seek out. The most common of these details are listed below.

To set certain popular misconceptions to rest once and for all:
1) He was not found wandering the streets of London in 1869, unable to say anything more than "Powerful big rats, gentlemen."
2) He did indeed have what most people would understand as "eyes".
3) He was not the pilot of the zeppelin, although he did disappear for a good long time following the explosion.
4) There were no tooth-marks on his bones.
5) He was never convicted if any capital crime, for reasons that still remain shrouded in mystery.

A recording of his voice singing "They say she done them all in. They say she did it with an axe." was discovered on the telephone answering machine of a Toronto taxi company in the winter of 1984, but was erased by a temporary secretary who failed to understand it's worth.

During the year of 1912 he wrote a short passage on a small price of paper, and glued it to the sidewalk of a small town in Wales. A scanned copy of this passage has since been hardcoded in approximately one-fifth of all Android devices. The passage says this; "...All of the people were coming, and I said to them, and I said, there's no hope for me here, none if them have faces, always walking, and I never saw any of them before, and they keep touching me in the night, always in the night, sometimes when the rain comes, and no-one sees them but me, grey eyes maybe screaming, and I said to them, and I said to them...". Shortly thereafter he was removed to a private asylum. He stayed there for forty years, during which he did not age, although on the advice of a long dead physician all the staff wore ear-muffs while in his presence, and he was permitted no writing materials.

He could tell you stories about his years as a special ops mime in the Russian tactical forces. Stories that would turn your blood to ice. Like the mission in Tunisia, when he witnessed his entire platoon cut down by enemy fire while he watched, helplessly, from inside an invisible cage-pushing against the walls in a vain attempt to escape. He still has nightmares about that fateful day in Nigeria. He remembers the winds, so strong that he walked against them without moving for what seemed like hours, while the explosions rang around him. In Madagascar, they tortured him for weeks, using the most cruel methods known to mankind, but no matter what they did, he didn't say a word.

On all accounts, the world is well rid of him-if rid of him it truly is.