In Bethlehem one Christmas Eve, beneath the starlit sky, The Holy Banana shimmered bright, a beacon from on high, But lurking in the cabbage patch, with malice ripe and stout, Was evil, small, and spherical… The Brussels Sprout of Doubt Oh, the Banana and the Sprout! A showdown crispy, weird, devout — One full of grace, the other gout, A veggie battle all about! So gather ‘round and scream and shout: “Banana! Kick that Sprout OUT!” The Sprout rolled in with bitterness, a cloud of sulfur doom, It muttered, “Bah! Your holiness is just a fruity bloom.” The Banana calmly floated up and said, “Now let’s be civil,” But Sprout replied, “I’m evil, mate — I’m basically a small green devil.” Oh, the Banana and the Sprout! A festive, farcical food rout, The sprout proclaimed, “I’ll win, no doubt!” The crowd yelled back, “We’ll compost you out!” The angels sang, “Without a doubt — Banana, knock that Sprout about!” And then the Sprout unleashed a stench That shook the whole divine, The shepherds fainted instantly, The wise men dropped their wine, But then the Holy Banana Gave a gentle righteous glow — And every sprout in Bethlehem Was launched like mistle-snow. The villain rolled into the night, defeated, flat, and cooked, While townsfolk cheered the Banana, Whose peel was slightly shook, And peace returned to Bethlehem, As all good feasts allow — A fruit of love victorious… And Sprouts banned everywhere for now. Oh, the Banana and the Sprout! The tale we’ll never be without, A Christmas war of veg devout, Where goodness won without a doubt, So raise your mugs and cry aloud — “Bless the Banana! Down with Sprout!”
