Back at a subway station, a man in a banana costume whipped out a violin and started playing Brahms. The three hobos turned around and looked at him in scorn. How could he play that on such a day as this? It was blasphemy. But a man in a banana costume was a revolutionary—he didn't care about such unnecessary social conventions as "Don't play Brahms in a subway dressed in a banana suit" Day. He wanted to play Brahms, and he would, and nothing in the world would stop him. Slowly, the hobos gathered around him in intrigue. It was the second day of their social interaction, and it was against hobo custom to stay scornful of someone for longer than 7 minutes if they had been part of their hobo rituals, even if that someone was a man in a banana costume playing Brahms in a subway station on "Don't play Brahms in a subway dressed in a banana suit" Day, which was a sacred offense.

Never had a man in a banana costume so blatantly defied the strict hobo code before, especially not in front of such honorable hobos as these, who followed all of the rituals to the highest degree. The hobos couldn't take their eyes off of a man in a banana costume playing Brahms in a subway on "Don't play Brahms in a subway dressed in a banana suit" Day.

One hobo approached a man in a banana costume, and drew a symbol in chalk in front of him. Then he shuffled his feet and flailed his hands, before swiveling his head in a circle.

A man in a banana costume understood this for what it really meant—the honorable hobo was asking if he could borrow the violin. He stopped playing Brahms in the subway, dressed as a banana, and gave the instrument to the hobo.

The hobo took the violin and ran out of the subway station. The other two hobos sat back down and continued folding origami.

Once he was out of the subway, the hobo with the violin whipped out a newspaper which he promptly folded into a top hat. He placed the hat upside down in front of himself and propped the violin under his chin.

With a trembling hand, he gripped the bow in his left hand and placed it onto the strings, slowly dragging.

The instrument uttered unearthly sounds, its wailing and screeching echoing through the early morning street, shocking all the passersby.

Even though this was his first time playing the violin, the hobo instinctively knew how to play it because he meditated daily.

Soon, a crowd of spectators gathered. Nobody had ever heard such noises coming from a violin before. They were mesmerized by the profound melody. They formed a circle and stared at the unique and brilliant performance. When the hobo was done, they clapped and cheered, throwing money into the paper top hat. The hobo bowed deeply, and gathered up his belongings. He retreated back into the depths of the subway, and handed the violin back to a man in a banana costume.

A man in a banana costume received the violin with grace. The hobo did his leg shuffling, arm flailing and head twisting in a backwards manner and erased the chalk markings to display his gratitude. By unwinding his original request, he conveyed the fact that it was completed, and that he was very happy. The hobo felt indebted to a man in a banana costume, so he took out the freshest, crispest newspaper he had and folded it into the most beautiful violin origami that ever existed. A man in a banana costume accepted the gift with grace and elegance. The hobos bowed to a man in a banana costume and walked out of the subway. The main hobo jingled the coins inside the newspaper top hat in a jolly manner as he walked out.

A man in a banana costume waved farewell to the retreating figures of the hobos, and looked down at the gray, folded violin in his palm. He smiled wistfully and gently placed it onto the ground at his feet.

He reached the hand that had just held the tiny violin up to the zipper of his costume, and pulled, peeling off the banana suit. It slowly slipped off of his shoulders, over his waist, past his knees and fell towards his ankles.

A baby cried as a man who used to be in a banana costume stepped out of the discarded yellow skin pooling at his feet.

A man who used to be in a banana costume walked towards the yellow line at the end of the platform that separated the inhabitable world from the treacherous trench that ran beneath the subway trains. Curious passersby stared at him, wondering what he would do next. There isn't much you wouldn't expect from a man who had the courage to shed his banana skin in front of a public audience, and step up to that dangerous line. He might even cross it!

The thought came too late, and the onlookers watched in horror as a man who used to be in a banana costume stepped off of the platform and plunged into the terrible depths. They saw a light at the end of the tunnel, and a panic washed over the crowd. For a second, they froze in shock, unable to process what was happening.

Was a man who just took off a banana costume really jumping under a train? It couldn't be possible. The thought was too improbably in their minds for them to even begin to consider the consequences.

Somewhere, amidst the confusion, a hobo turned around.

He looked at the ground where his benefactor, a man in a banana costume, used to be, and saw only the tiny grey speck of an origami violin. It fluttered beneath the feet of the panicking denizens of the subway station. The hobo watched as a child stumbled in the confusion, and stepped on the violin with a little sandal clad shoe. The little violin, crushed, tottered on the floor before growing still, as the people froze in shock.

The honorable hobo ran forward, and pushed the child aside. He picked up the discarded banana skin, determination etched on his face, and marched towards the edge of the platform, slicing his way through the crowd.

The light at the end of the tunnel grew brighter. The whistle of the train reverberated through the tunnel and off of the walls of the subway station.

The hobo gripped the banana skin and flung it over the edge of the platform, bellowing a phrase used to send off warriors into the next life in his garbled tongue. The banana skin landed in a heap across the rails.

People screamed as a man who used to be in a banana costume disappeared beneath a blue striped subway train. Shrieks erupted from men and women alike, and parents held their children close, whispering "Watch closely, this was the end of a man who used to be in a banana costume. He will never come again." The children, nodding, held back tears for the solemn warrior who was leaving them, after finally taking off his warrior's garment and revealing his true nature to them.