I still remember the day I saw my greatest adversary like it was only a moon ago. I came home from my job (makes well into 8 figures for those wondering) and spouted, “honey, I’m ready for our daily hot steamy sexy sex session!” Oh what an incoherent fool I was. I heard no response. Only empty silence echoing through the halls.

I crept through my house (very large and extremely lavish) inching my way toward my wife’s room. I heard a faint noise as I got closer, unholstering my epic gun. As the door creeped open I saw messages written in blood like “the antichrist is dead” and “ I NEED MORE BLOOD” also “any women born after 1997 can’t cook, all they know is eat hot chip, lie, charge they phone, be bisexual, twerk and eat Macdonald’s”

I was still calm at this point (cuz I’m a badass) when I saw a banana doing a silly dance on my wife’s still decrepit lifeless corpse, drained of blood. I shot him 3 times 2 times in the chest and one in the testicle. Ever since then I’ve been running from him.

As I tried to escape the house the Iranian sex banana hopped in his sex van and started gunning as he screamed, “I’m gonna sex you!!!!!” Soon as I realized the heat of the situation I dashed for my (very expensive luxury) car and hit the gas.

It’s been 4 months since then and I haven’t managed to take him out of commission for any longer than 24 hours. I’ve tried everything I can think of. Gasoline fueled fires, explosives, legos, malnourished Indian children, 19 dollar fortnite cards, Steven universe fan-fiction, and angry grandmas to name a few.

The closet he got to killing me was about 2 weeks after I had first seen him. I had flown a plane to Beijing (first class of course) and thought it would be safe to stay at a motel. Big mistake. I was taking a shower when the fucker kicked down my shower door!

Guess what this Iranian sex banana did next. That’s right! He shoved soap through my urethra into my seminal vesicle. As I fell to the ground, writhing in unfiltered agony he rooted out and snatched the crowbars I had been stashing in the cabinet to be prepared. But right before he shattered my kneecaps Jackie Chan descended from the ceiling to repeatedly kick this Iranian FUCKER in balls. With my injuries I couldn’t help and could only scurry away.

Unfortunately, Jackie Chan’s awesome power was diminished as he had been attached to the Celling for 4 days watching me urinate and shower. He fell victim to the vicious bananas ball crushing/cracking kicks and trikz.