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Kelsey Turner



Blame SG

Mr. Munch got out of his silver subaru on a crisp saturday morning and strolled across

the parking lot of St. Matthews Lutheran Church towards classroom nine. Munch was nervous,

yet slightly excited (but mostly nervous), for what would happen behind the door and within the

walls of that room. He walked in and chose one of the 15 metal folding chairs to sit in. It was

9:50 AM, he was 10 minutes early, so there were several choices of where to sit.

At 9:59 all but one of the chairs had been occupied, and at precisely 10 oclock the last

seat was taken by the leader of the group, a middle-aged man, with a rather large head and a

scraggly black beard, named David. Good Morning everyone said David, Why dont we start

off the day by introducing ourselves? Ill go first. Hey Im David Johnson . David pointed to the

petite brunette to his left and said Your turn. She stood up and squeaked out: Hi, my name is

Margaret Ramirez. Munch knew he was next, so he leaned forward, and with a nervous little

half-smile got up and said: Hello, my name is Anthony Munch.

After everyone had introduced themselves David decided that all the newcomers should

share their stories and why they were there with the group, and that day Munch happened to be

the only newcomer. David reminded everyone that, Today is Anthonys first day, so make sure

to act with respect and intregrity as he shares his story. Munchs chair creaked as he shifted in

his seat and realized that all eyes were on him. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and

spoke: Hi, Im Anthony Munch, most people just call me Munch, and Im here because Im an

addict, a banana addict, and I need help. He paused to wipe a bead of sweat off of his

forehead, take in all the bewildered stares, and then began once again, It all started about four

years ago when I began coaching cross country and track.

You see, I used to run in college so I thought coaching would be easy, but boy was I

out of shape. So naturally, I started trying some get fast quick solutions. I tried the old inserts in

your shoes trick , do an extra hill repeat, drink some more coffee bit, but none of them worked

like they used to. I didnt know what to do, I had to show the high schoolers I was superior by

beating them, but none of it was working. I was lost. The bewildered stares of the other group

members began morphing into attentive gazes, Margaret Ramirez, the petite brunette, was

particularly enthralled. So, I turned to Shaun Guest, a super fit teacher and fellow running

enthusiast at the school I was working at. He told me something that Id never heard of before,

to try eating more bananas. At first, I was a bit apprehensive because Id heard horror stories

that bananas could upset your stomach, but Shaun assured me that it was fine, all the fast

runners were doing it. So, I tried it. That night I bought a bushel of bananas at Safeway, little did

I know that my life would never be the same.

At this point, Munch started to tear up, I brought one to school and put it in my desk

drawer while I taught, and that afternoon I ate it before practice. On our warm-up to the park and

during stretches, everything felt normal, I was beginning to regret the $1.89 I had spent on the

bananas. But, once we started our hill repeats, it began. I was moving faster than I ever had

before, I was even beating Sayed, the fastest kid on the team. My legs were moving so quick

that it felt like I was flying up the slopes. It was a feeling I had never experienced before, and I

loved it.

After that, I brought a banana every day, but soon one banana wasnt enough anymore.

So I began eating more, sometimes up to 34 bananas a day, I had to start buying in bulk from a

wholesale dealer so I didnt go broke. Munch began crying. My pants didnt fit anymore either,

not because I had gained weight, but because the extreme amount of Potassium I was

consuming was causing my calves to grow at an alarming rate, see! Munch pointed to his calf

and flexed. The entire room gasped. His calves were easily the size of Davids bulbous head,
they were abnormally massive (and muscular, Margaret Ramirez liked that). It got so bad, that I

had to sneak a bite every 20 minutes in class, my addiction was taking over my life.

One night, after practice when I got home, I ate 12 bananas at once. I was on my

treadmill in a sugar trance, thats what I liked to call the feeling that they gave me, when I heard

a crash in the kitchen. I sprinted out as fast as I could, fearing that my bananas had bruised,

when I saw Jeb, my best friend lying on the floor under a pile of the fallen bananas. Munch had

started bawling at this point. He explained to the group that Jeb was his 9 year old tabby who

had been there with him through thick and thin, and helped him through some really difficult

breakups. I picked up Jebs limp body, and rushed to the cat hospital, but the bananas had torn

his spinal cord and there was nothing the vet could do. Jeb died that night. My best friend died

that night, and it was my fault. My addiction blinded me, and I didnt realize that until it caused

me to lose my best friend. Munch wiped his tears. Its too late to save Jeb, but its not too late

to save myself. So, thats my story, and thats why Im here, because I need to save myself, from

my banana addiction.

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