Andrew Ridgeley Bluth had volunteered for extra shifts at the family banana stand under the pretense of picking up some extra money. In truth, he was hoping to avoid his cousin, Possibly, and his feelings for her. Unbeknownst to him, Gob had procured the services of seven chimpanzees trained in the art of Ninjitsu for his magic act.

“Gah!”

What he didn’t know was that Possibly had taken a taxi down to the banana stand specifically to discuss her feelings for him.

“Possibly!”

“Oh my god, Andrew Ridgeley! Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Well, no, uh, I mean, probably, but, well, could you call the police? Or something?”

Just then Jebediah, who happened to be sunning himself in a ridiculous pink thong in the hopes of avoiding tan lines for an upcoming audition, stumbled unwittingly into the crowd of nunchaku-wielding simians.

“Aaagh! Andrew Ridgeley, get over here and spank my monkey!”

“Uh…what?”

“Oh, I apologize. I shouldn’t have said that; how inappropriate! I meant to say, ‘get over here and spank my ape.’ Jebediah you’re a doctor, you should know the difference between these things!”

“That’s not really what I was asking abou-”

“Andrew Ridgeley, I have hold of this flailing monkey and the only way it will ever learn not to attack people is if you deliver a little corporal punishment. Now come spank this monkey!”

Wear this shirt: To your Pop-Pop’s arraignment.

Don’t wear this shirt: To your meeting with Kitty Sanchez. You’ll be overdressed.

This shirt tells the world: “I’m holding out for the movie!”

We call this color: Prematurely-Cancelled Cranberry

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