Early Life

The First Cracked Coconut

In 2013, Deshawn wasn’t born. He arrived—during a thunderstorm so loud it made the parrots shut up. His mother, a retired vine-runner, gave birth on a mossy slope in the Quandanian Wildlands. The very moment he entered the world, a coconut fell from a nearby tree, split clean in two, and revealed a perfectly ripe fruit inside. The elder monkeys whispered that it was a sign. Others said it was just coincidence. But the truth? That coconut became his first possession. While other newborns clung to their mothers, Deshawn clutched that cracked shell like a prophecy.

Banana Rations and Broken Trust

Life in the Wildlands wasn’t kind to young monkeys. Deshawn learned quickly that food was power, and power was hoarded. The older primates controlled banana distribution, handing out one banana for every five hours of manual labor. Deshawn, still barely able to walk upright, started bartering leaf carvings and shiny rocks just to bump up his rations. One day in 2014, he sold a pebble with a hole in it to a gullible baboon named Barry in exchange for a half-banana and a dried mango. That same evening, he got jumped. Lesson learned: the jungle doesn’t reward cleverness unless you back it up with teeth. From then on, Deshawn walked with a sharpened stick.

The Fruitmarket Incident

At age two, Deshawn made his first economic power play. The central fruit market of the Wildlands—just a circle of rocks where monkeys screamed about pricing—was experiencing a pineapple shortage. Deshawn cornered the dried papaya game instead. He convinced the lemurs that papaya slices would rise in value soon, created artificial scarcity by hiding crates in the treetops, and sold his supply back at triple the price. The monkey elders investigated, but there was no law in the jungle—just vibes and vengeance. He walked away richer. The lemurs never recovered. The papaya market? Never the same again.

The Tree Fort of Solitude

Despite his schemes, Deshawn kept to himself. Deep within the canopy, he built a hidden fort out of discarded vines, coconut husks, and one waterproof tarp stolen from a human expedition. It was here that he studied old fruit-maps, planned jungle heists, and wrote manifestos in banana ink. His favorite quote, scribbled on the wall in big, sticky letters: 

"A soft mango today means a rotten empire tomorrow.”

Every successful trade or hustle he pulled off, he’d mark a notch on the tree bark. By year’s end, there were over 80 notches. Some say the fort still exists, untouched, with his earliest plans tucked inside a hollow gourd.

The Peel Testament

Right before the Peelback Summit, Deshawn crafted his first doctrine in 2015—The Peel Testament, a rolled-up banana leaf covered in carefully drawn fruit symbols, codes, and one chilling phrase repeated five times: 

"Control the peel, control the power."

 It was this scroll that he brought to the summit, tucked inside his infamous velvet robe. While others brought weapons and entourages, Deshawn brought ideology and style. And though he was laughed at when he arrived, nobody laughed once he revealed he had already flipped five of the attendees through backdoor papaya deals. That night, the Testament vanished—but it would be quoted, feared, and even worshipped by rebel monkey groups for years to come.

Career

The Monkey Who Wore Velvent

At just two years old, Deshawn gained notoriety for one of the most bizarre moves in early cartel fashion—wearing a velvet bathrobe at the Peelback Summit, a critical meeting of rebellious monkeys, lemur unions, and two rogue squirrels. While everyone else brought weapons, Deshawn brought designer clothes. His robe? Purple velvet with gold embroidery that read "Banana or Bust." It was sewn by blind marmosets rumored to be trained by the last tailor of the Coconut Monarchy.

This robe wasn’t just for show—it was laced with fiber-optic threads that allowed him to transmit orders across the jungle using fruit-based Morse code. It was here that he gave his first iconic speech:

"If you control the peel, you control the power. And I got the whole peel, baby."

The robe was later stolen by a rival monkey named Greasy Craig, who was never seen again. Some say the robe ate him.

Rise of a Kingpin

At just four years old in 2016, Deshawn saw an opportunity.

The Mandrill Mafia, a powerful syndicate controlling the banana trade, had become lazy. Complacent. They taxed the capuchins unfairly, hoarded fruit, and punished those who questioned their rule.

Deshawn wouldn’t be a victim.

He united the underpaid coconut laborers and smuggled stolen bananas through an underground tunnel system (a series of really well-placed vines). He called his movement The Peelback Rebellion—a coalition of underdog primates, determined to take back the jungle’s economy.

Then in 2017, came The Battle of Rotten Fruit Hill.

The Mandrill Mafia arrived in force. It was a bloodbath. Bananas were turned into weapons. Pineapples exploded on impact. The air smelled of overripe fruit and ambition. Deshawn, against all odds, emerged victorious. With the Mandrill Mafia exiled, he controlled the banana market. But the moment you wear the crown, the clock starts ticking.

Underground Monkey Wrestling Federation

Between smuggling operations and hostile takeovers, Deshawn moonlighted as a masked fighter in The Underground Monkey Wrestling Federation (UMWF) under the ring name "Bruised Banana." With a titanium banana peel mask and coconut knee pads, he became an arena legend.

He didn't fight for money. He fought for respect. His signature move, the Fruit Slammer, involved launching himself from the ceiling using vine-suspended scaffolding and crashing down with a splash of potassium vengeance. No one could stop him—not even Chongo the Mango Mangler, who lost four teeth and most of his fur after underestimating Deshawn’s flying plantain elbow.

Eventually, Deshawn was banned for breaking the ring floor three matches in a row and powerbombing a referee through a fruit cart.

The Great Peelback War

In 2018, Deshawn Klindia led what would become one of the most legendary conflicts in jungle history—the Peelback-Mandrill War. Tensions between the rising Peelback Rebellion and the corrupt Mandrill Mafia finally erupted in an all-out fruit-fueled civil war. Over the course of several brutal months, Deshawn orchestrated ambushes from treetop command posts, deployed banana-based artillery, and united dozens of oppressed primate clans under a single flag stitched from stolen robes and guava pulp. The war’s turning point came during the Siege of Peelspire Tree, where Deshawn, armed only with a machete carved from a mango pit and a velvet sash soaked in pineapple juice, led a final charge that sent the Mandrills fleeing into exile. Though victory came at a great cost, it solidified Deshawn's legacy—not just as a kingpin, but as a revolutionary leader who rewrote the jungle’s rules with bruised knuckles and impeccable style.

Reality TV Show

Slice of Life with Deshawn and the Gang of YNs is a groundbreaking reality‑TV series that premiered in 2017 on GoofyNet and instantly became a cultural phenomenon across the Goofist Region. Framed like a hyper‑sensationalized docu‑drama, the show follows Deshawn Klindia and his crew of up‑and‑coming street bosses (the YNs) as they navigate block‑to‑block drama in Holland. Equal parts gritty street saga and opulent reality spectacle, each episode weaves together candid confessionals, high‑stakes snack negotiations, and explosive interpersonal clashes that feel ripped from the tabloids.

The ensemble cast—beyond Deshawn and sidekick Benny Bonobo 2.0—includes Mama YN, the overbearing matriarch who holds the purse strings; Telepathic Pineapple, the enigmatic soothsayer whose mood swings can swing entire alliances; and Cluke Farfation, the cosmic diva whose table‑flipping outbursts have become weekly water‑cooler talking points. Cameras roll 24/7, capturing everything from late‑night Dorito heists at abandoned Chuck E. Cheese outlets to heart‑tugging family moments at the Bruised Banana Cartel reunions. Viewers tune in to watch alliances form and fracture as snack‑themed power plays unfold in real time.

Visually, the series is a neon‑drenched feast: graffiti‑tagged backstreets lit by flickering neon Dorito signs, clandestine meetings in underground waffle‑syrup speakeasies, and confessional booths decked out in velvet with gold trim. The show’s signature editing style—rapid cuts between heated arguments and slow‑motion crunch sequences—amplifies both the emotional stakes and the absurdity of snack‑based warfare. A pulsing chiptune‑hip‑hop hybrid soundtrack underscores every dramatic beat, with custom remixes of the “Crunch Slide” theme popping up in every episode.

What sets Slice of Life apart is its blend of authentic street‑level storytelling and over‑the‑top Goofy Region absurdity. One season‑ending cliffhanger saw Deshawn staging a public apology tour—complete with a brass band of sentient cheese drums—after a leaked video showed him sneaking expired Pepto Bismol soda into a sober‑city fundraiser. Another arc revolved around Benny Bonobo 2.0’s secret side hustle as an underground mango‑smuggling ring leader, which culminated in a midnight showdown atop the “Velveeta Volcano” power plant.

The series also pioneered interactive viewer integration: audiences could vote live on which side quests Deshawn would undertake next (rescue a wayward Telepathic Pineapple? Stage a flash‑mob “Ranch Riot”?), and top fan choices would unlock bonus “Snack Cred” digital collectibles. These mechanics not only boosted ratings but spawned fan‑run “YN Watch Parties” across multiple timelines—complete with synchronized Crunch Slide flash mobs.

By the time the series concluded after four seasons, it had racked up five Quandanian Media Awards for “Best Reality Show Drama,” “Most Inventive Snack‑Based Conflict,” and “Outstanding Confessional Booth Performance.” More importantly, it cemented Deshawn Klindia’s status as the Goofist Region’s premier antihero—setting the stage perfectly for his leap into video‑game stardom with Crunch Crusade.

Deshawn Klindia’s Crunch Crusade

Deshawn Klindia’s Crunch Crusade is a genre‑bending reality‑TV platformer that mashes up the block‑to‑block grit of Boyz n the Hood with the over‑the‑top drama of the Kardashians, all filtered through a kaleidoscope of neon Dorito‑bodega aesthetics. Released in 2018 on the GoofyNet 2, Binbows NT 5.0 and Binbows 5 just after the hit series Slice of Life with Deshawn and the Gang of YNs, the game casts players as Deshawn himself, navigating a soap‑opera‑style campaign to secure the coveted “Ultimate Oscar” for Best Reality Show Host. Each level feels like an episode—complete with betrayal‑triggering dialogue, confessional booth cutscenes for “Snack Cred” boosts, and a dynamic Drama Meter that can completely reroute your path to stardom.

Players begin in the “Family Reunion Ruins,” helping Deshawn stage the perfect public apology after a banana‑smuggling scandal. Here, he unlocks his signature Banana Nuke move, raining potassium‑charged devastation on rival cast members. From there, the action barrels through neon‑lit alleyways, animatronic Chuck E. Cheese raves (where you can tag along with your sidekick, Benny Bonobo 2.0, and unleash his Mango Blast), and high‑stakes Oscar‑campaign fundraisers set inside floating banquet halls. Drama‑fueled boss battles—like the cosmic table‑flips of Cluke Farfation and the fungal onslaught from Baroness Brie Lavalier—keep each encounter fresh and hilariously chaotic.

Combat cleverly blends platforming with reality‑TV mechanics. While you’ll stomp, snap, and nuke your way through hordes of snack‑fueled foes, you’ll also need to manage your Oscar Gauge by pulling off style moves (“Red Carpet Flash” stomps), staging viral charity snack events, and calling in the VIP Ranch Packet Drop for crowd‑pleasing holograms. Missteps—like letting Baroness Brie’s Camembert Corruption spoil your glamour points—can trigger scandal storms that fill the Drama Meter and send you into surprise side‑quests, from public pie‑ins‑the‑face to sabotaging a rival’s confessional video.

Narratively, the game leans hard into its TV‑show roots. Between levels, you’ll watch mini‑episodes exploring Deshawn’s alliances with the Bruised Banana Cartel, the tension with the Telepathic Pineapple, and secret behind‑the‑scenes footage of cameo appearances by [[Yappington Dingle]]. These interludes not only punctuate the gameplay but also unlock alternate routes—help Benny Bonobo 2.0 pull off a late‑night Dorito heist, and you might gain access to the secret “HQ of the Bruised Banana Cartel” level.

The final arc culminates in the “Chrono‑Toaster Reunion” boss fight, where Deshawn faces off against duplicated rivals spawned by Yappington’s timeline‑warping antics. Victory grants you the golden teleprompter—your ticket to the big night. In a dazzling post‑credits gala, you deliver your Oscar acceptance speech on a platform of Cheez‑Its as confetti rains down in every flavor of victory. For the ultimate completionists who finish on “Soap Supreme” difficulty without a single betrayal, the hidden “After Show” dance party unlocks, featuring a synchronized Crunch Slide routine and the game’s cheeky final message: “You’ve earned your snack‑fueled legacy—now go shine on that red carpet.”

Okunabowwow Ohioson Books

Deshawn Klindia’s literary ambitions took an unexpected turn when in 2018 he penned a trilogy about the fictional character Okungabowow Ohioson, a quirky and elusive figure whose adventures were as wild and unpredictable as the jungle itself. The first book in the series, "The Corn Pit Caper: Tax Fraud and the Great Escape", tells the story of Okungabowow Ohioson, a man on the run from the IRS after being implicated in an elaborate tax fraud scheme. In an attempt to escape the law, he takes refuge in a massive corn pit on a farm, where he spends his days hiding amongst the towering stalks, eating corn, and plotting his next move. The book is a chaotic blend of slapstick humor, suspense, and unexpected wisdom about how to evade taxes—if you’re into that kind of thing. It’s the type of book that makes you laugh out loud and question your life choices. Okungabowow's ability to blend in with the corn and evade capture is a testament to his bizarre genius, and the plot thickens as he starts finding hidden treasure chests in the corn pit, suggesting that perhaps he was meant for greatness all along.

The second book in the trilogy, "The Corn Pit Mansion: Lottery Dreams and Cornfield Palaces", takes a wild turn as Okungabowow wins the lottery. With his newfound wealth, he decides to turn his humble corn pit refuge into a lavish mansion. Built entirely within the cornfield, his new home features corn-themed décor, corn furniture, and even a corn-shaped swimming pool. The local townspeople are confused, but Okungabowow is on top of the world—until the IRS gets wind of his sudden fortune. But he’s not worried. He’s got a corn castle now! As the story unfolds, we see Okungabowow living large, throwing extravagant corn-themed parties and flaunting his wealth, all while trying to stay one step ahead of the feds. The book ends with Okungabowow facing off with an IRS agent who gets stuck in his corn pool, leading to an epic showdown filled with corn-based traps and wildly improbable escapes.

In the third and final book, "The Corn Diet: Eating the Field, Evading the Law", Okungabowow decides to take things to a whole new level. He starts consuming all of the corn in the field, convinced that the more corn he eats, the more powerful he becomes. As he devours the corn at an alarming rate, his mansion begins to collapse under the weight of his actions, and his health deteriorates. But Okungabowow refuses to stop. Meanwhile, the IRS is closing in, and they’ve got an entire task force of agents ready to bring him down. As Okungabowow continues his corn consumption, he spirals into a chaotic frenzy, unable to stop himself. The book ends on a cliffhanger as the IRS finally tracks him down, with Okungabowow making one final, desperate attempt to escape, but with the corn field swallowing him whole. The fate of Okungabowow Ohioson remains unknown, and fans are left hanging, wondering whether he’ll ever escape the IRS or finally pay the price for his bizarre and extravagant corn-filled lifestyle.

The Price of Power

By age six, Deshawn had built an empire.

His influence spread beyond the jungle. Exotic banana shipments were smuggled into human cities. The black market thrived. Even the elder orangutans—long thought to be impartial—had investments in Deshawn’s operations.

And yet, power attracts betrayal.

Deshawn’s closest ally, Benny Bonobo, sold him out. For what?

A lifetime supply of imported jungle pears.

It was a foolish deal. A short-sighted betrayal. But it was enough.

In one night, Deshawn’s warehouses were burned. His fortune seized by rival factions. His empire? Gone.

He fled into the shadows, a fugitive in his own jungle.

But Deshawn was never one to quit.

The Peeling Point with Deshawn K.

After years of war, betrayal, and financial chaos, Deshawn Klindia surprised everyone by launching a jungle-based talk show titled ''The Peeling Point with Deshawn K.'' Filmed in a deforested clearing turned open-air studio, the show combined therapy, drama, and occasional fruit-based stunts. Picture Dr. Phil meets WWE—but with more coconuts. Deshawn, in a velvet blazer and sunglasses at all times, would welcome guests ranging from troubled orangutans to emotionally distant sloths, attempting to resolve their issues through firm advice, audience votes, or live banana-duel interventions. His catchphrase—"If the peel don’t heal, the fruit gon’ feel."—became a national motto in Quandanian pop culture.

The show was wildly popular. Jungle creatures tuned in every week to watch messy family disputes, relationship breakdowns, and vine addiction exposés get aired out in front of a rowdy live audience made up entirely of capuchins on sugar highs. One particularly infamous episode featured a chimp who believed he was a papaya. Deshawn calmly helped him “reconnect with his inner primate,” then challenged him to a dance battle to prove it. Ratings exploded. The Peeling Point became the highest-viewed program in Quandanian history, briefly surpassing even the National Coconut Tossing Finals.

Behind the scenes, though, it wasn’t just about ratings. Deshawn saw the show as damage control. After years of being hunted and hated, he was shifting his image from kingpin to counselor. It worked—at least partially. The Cartel laid off for a while. Human sponsors took notice. There was even talk of a Netflix adaptation. But Deshawn never fully trusted the peace. He kept a banana nunchuck under his chair during every episode. Just in case therapy needed to turn tactical.

Deshawn's Juice Empire

With The Peeling Point dominating ratings, Deshawn launched [[Klindia Krush]], a hyper-caffeinated jungle juice brand made from 37 unidentified fruits and at least one illegal flower. Marketed with slogans like “Hydrate or Get Flattened” and “The Only Juice Approved by Eight Out of Ten Monkeys with Legal Records,” it sold out instantly. Rumors swirled that the drink caused temporary mind-reading or enhanced jungle parkour skills. One bottle even melted a vending machine. Despite FDA warnings (and the mysterious disappearance of three taste-testers), [[Klindia Krush]] became the national drink of [[Federation of Quandania|Quandania]]. Deshawn even started a juice-fueled racing league where all the drivers were drunk lemurs in roller skates.

The Diss Track

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In an outrage from the betrayal of [[Benny Bonobo]], Deshawn called up Biggie Cheese to make a diss on Benny Bonobo in 2019 titled "MMMMurderous". It got 14 Grammys and hit quintuple platinum in a week, unfortunately, he spent all of the earned money on mangoes and is now $1,000,000,000 in debt. In Geniuses words, ""MMMurderous" was a sonic declaration of war—Deshawn Klindia’s venomous diss track aimed squarely at Benny Bonobo and his entire rotten-fruit crew. Featuring Biggie Cheese in his prime, the track blends banana-slick bars with rodent ruthlessness. Over a cold, creeping instrumental, Deshawn unloads lyrical shots with the precision of a vine-trained sniper, weaving fruit cartel lore and jungle betrayals into pure auditory aggression. Biggie slides in mid-track with greasy confidence, delivering a deep, grating verse that could curdle coconut milk. Though recorded before Deshawn’s disappearance, the song surfaced posthumously and is widely credited for reigniting turf wars across the Fruit Belt. It remains a staple in Jungle Rap history—and a warning to any monkey thinking about crossing the Peelback legacy."

The Banana Boom

Flush with jungle wealth and surrounded by sycophants, Deshawn orchestrated what would be known as the Banana Boom—a rapid inflation of fruit currency after he convinced hundreds of creatures to invest in BananaCoin again, only this time backed by actual bananas… which unfortunately rotted within 36 hours.

Monkeys mortgaged their trees, parrots sold their feathers, and one unfortunate capybara sold his tail. When the crash came, Deshawn blamed “economic sabotage by the Strawberry Syndicate” and launched a full PR campaign featuring him eating expired bananas on livestream while giving motivational speeches.

Despite the collapse, he walked away richer, somehow. As one rival put it, “He lost everything, and still ended up with more than everyone else. That’s Klindia math.”

Exile and Rebirth

At age eight, Deshawn made a bold decision: he would leave the jungle.

The world was bigger than trees and vines. And so, with nothing but a stolen fruit crate, he stowed away on a cargo ship bound for Colombia.

There, he found a new game.

In the cities, the fruit trade was controlled by the Fruit Cartel of Bogotá. They laughed at the idea of a monkey running operations.

They stopped laughing when Deshawn cornered the banana futures market.

* He revived BananaCoin, a cryptocurrency backed by nothing but vibes and deception (and somehow, it worked—for three weeks).

* He introduced performance-enhancing bananas to underground wrestling matches.

* He bought and sold more illegal coconuts than anyone in recorded history.

By 2022, Deshawn wasn't just thriving. He was dominating.

The Orchard of Mirror

At the height of his South American reign, Deshawn vanished for two weeks. No shipments moved. No calls were returned. Jungle radio silence. Then, suddenly, he reappeared—wearing a poncho made of laminated mango peels and muttering about “the Orchard of Mirrors.” According to Deshawn, deep in the Andes existed a hidden grove where the trees bore fruit that showed you alternate versions of your life—lives where he never wore the robe, never went to war, never lost Benny. He claimed he fought a version of himself that had become a peaceful mango farmer, and beat him in a duel of riddles and deception. Whether the story’s true or not, he returned colder, quieter… and smarter. From that point on, Deshawn began preparing for something bigger. Not just dominance—legacy. He told his top lieutenant: “You can run the jungle. I’ll rewrite the rules.”

Reflections and Riddles

Inside the Orchard of Mirrors, time didn’t move right. Deshawn swore the trees whispered in backwards monkey-speak and the bananas grew upside-down. At the orchard’s heart stood a glassy fruit tree with one massive gold-plated mirrorfruit—reflecting ''himself'', but not. This version of Deshawn wore overalls, held a watering can, and smiled like he didn’t know betrayal. He went by “Shaun of the Soil.” The mirrorfruit cracked, and both Deshawns were pulled into a mental arena shaped like a coconut shell. The duel began—not with fists, but with riddles and deception. Shaun asked: “What has no peel, no pit, but can still poison?” Deshawn answered without blinking: “Trust.” Then he asked: “What fruit ripens fastest under pressure?” Shaun hesitated. Deshawn grinned. “''Me.''” With that, the orchard trembled, and the farmer version faded into mulch. Before vanishing, Shaun left him one warning: “Your future’s already rotting. You just don’t smell it yet.” Deshawn emerged from the grove clutching a seed that glowed faintly… and hasn’t spoken of it since.

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The Legal Trial of the Century

In late 2022, Deshawn stood trial in the Grand Jungle Tribunal for “Crimes Against Fruit Stability.” The charges included mango hoarding, psychological manipulation via citrus memes, and orchestrating the 2018 pineapple riots using subliminal banana advertising. Acting as his own lawyer, Deshawn wore a powdered wig made of shredded coconut and opened with: “Ladies and gorillas of the jury… I am but a humble fruit enthusiast.” Against all odds, he won the case after producing a blurry vine video “proving” the crimes were committed by his evil twin, Shawn D. Klindia. No one could confirm Shawn existed. The court shrugged. The trial ended with a dance party and Deshawn selling autographed pears outside the courthouse.

The Accidental Island Nation

While trying to escape creditors, Deshawn crash-landed on a small, uninhabited fruit barge floating in the South Papayan Sea. After a week of boredom and existential crises, he declared the barge its own country—Klindonesia. He became its king, president, DJ, and postal worker. Laws were passed via jungle drums. The official currency was shells painted to look like fruit emojis. Somehow, a few confused tourists arrived and started paying him real money. A trade alliance with nearby island parrots almost started a war, but ended peacefully after Deshawn gifted their leader a karaoke machine and a limited-edition Peeling Point DVD box set.

Deshawn Goes to Space

In collaboration with a startup called BananaThrust in 2023, Deshawn funded the launch of the first fruit-smuggler-in-space initiative. Using a janky rocket made from old coconut husks, duct tape, and questionable ambition, Deshawn achieved low-orbit flight for approximately 13 seconds. During that time, he livestreamed himself yelling “I AM THE ASTRONANAUT!” before passing out from a juice overdose. The rocket crash-landed in a mango orchard. No injuries were reported—except for a mildly annoyed turtle. NASA sent a cease-and-desist letter toward everybody involved. The footage now plays on loop in Quandanian museums under the title “One Small Peel for Monkeys…”

Falloff

The Final Betrayal

The Fruit Cartel of Bogotá couldn’t tolerate a monkey disrupting their power structure.

One night, Deshawn was lured into a fake banana shipment deal.

He should have known. The numbers didn’t add up. The location was too quiet. The air smelled of betrayal.

50 armed cartel members. One monkey.

What happened next is legend.

Security footage—heavily redacted—depicts:

Deshawn dodging bullets using vine parkour

Deshawn eliminating targets with banana nunchucks

Deshawn launching a coconut so hard it broke the sound barrier

The fight raged for ten hours. The warehouse burned to the ground.

And then…

Silence.

Deshawn was never seen again.

=== THE 15 MARRIAGES OF DESHAWN K. (2020–2023) ===

No part of Deshawn’s life was ever simple, especially not his romantic history.

Over the course of three years, he got married fifteen times. Sometimes to diplomats, sometimes to smugglers, sometimes to wrestlers, and once or twice to impressive-looking lemurs he met at fruit conventions.

Each marriage lasted an average of eleven days. One only lasted two hours.

Most of them ended in spectacular disasters. High-profile fruit fights, messy espionage, and once, an elaborate double-cross involving a fake banana orchard and a mechanical chimpanzee impersonator.

Still, Deshawn kept a velvet-lined scrapbook of every marriage. He called it Fruitful Mistakes and rated each one out of five bananas.

Only one of his exes ever spoke publicly about him.

"He was a liar, a scoundrel, and completely addicted to banana-scented cologne. But I’d marry him again in a heartbeat."

Deshawn’s body was never recovered.

The jungle does not forgive.

The Cartel does not leave loose ends.

His story lives on.

But Deshawn?

He’s gone.

Death (2023)

Some say his final scream echoed through the burning warehouse as he made one last, desperate lunge for the golden banana shipment. Some claim he tried to bribe the afterlife with counterfeit BananaCoin.

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But in the end, no monkey—no matter how powerful—can escape fate.