Trouble brews. The wonderland is running out of bananas. The trees are wilting. A depressed pineapple explains that joy here is chemically tied to potassium levels. Without bananas, colors drain, and the sky turns a sad beige. Lula must find the Last Perfect Banana , hidden in the Refrigerator Mountains.

A 90-second vocal loop: “Sun is a banana / moon is a peel / I forgot how to feel what is real.” Treated vocals, underwater piano, the sound of someone biting into a frozen fruit bar.

A chase sequence. Lula slides down a rainbow made of banana peels (slippery, but musical—each peel squeaks a different note). Behind her: the Mold Monks , fuzzy grey creatures who worship decay and want the banana to rot. She skids, she spins, she does a 360 on a cloud.

In the sky-wonderland, clouds aren't water vapor—they're the shed skins of sky crocodiles, who are friendly but have terrible breath (smells like overripe plantains). They offer Lula a ride, but only if she sings a jingle for a fictional brand of soda: “FizzFang.”

At the Refrigerator Mountains, the Last Perfect Banana is guarded by a bored, chain-smoking monkey in a crown. He doesn't want to fight. He wants to talk about existential dread. “What’s the point of a perfect banana if no one shares it?” Lula offers half. He cries. The sky turns pink.

The protagonist (call her Lula) wakes to find her bedroom floating. Bananas dangle from the ceiling like chandeliers. The law of up/down now depends on how ripe something is. A green banana sinks; a spotted one rises. She learns to walk sideways.