“So what do we need the bananas for?” Les asked.

“For here,” I said. Pulling up outside another quiet suburban house. Made quieter by the drenching rain that doused the neighborhood with a damp misery.

“Oh,” he said. Sounding for the first time since I’d met him, totally lost. “Ah.” Then he smelt it. The tangy, not quite metallic taste of a warped temporal breach. Another of Gary’s cock ups.

Helping me with the hundred pound stack of bananas Les walked with me to the front door. We didn’t bother knocking, we could already hear the shouts and yells from inside the house. No one would have answered if we had knocked.

“I told you to buy me bananas,” a man was yelling, pulling a gun from a drawer. “You’re so stupid, forgetting everything I… Who are you?”

“The bananas you ordered ma’am,” I tipped a nod to the terrified housewife. The ass of a husband stared at me dumbly, dropping the gun back in the drawer. We pushed the bananas onto him, he staggered back.

“Ma’am, ah, where is your daughter?”