You sit in a chair, your stomach still bulging and very uncomfortable. Tarzan stuffed you with bananas and you feel like you should get a nap to sleep it all off. You fear that those bananas will mean extra pounds later on.
"Banana make boys strong," says Tarzan in an authoritative voice.
You can only stare dumbly at him, nodding stupidly. He might be right, but in that case, how weak does he think you are for making you eat so many? Your digestion is making form coherent thoughts difficult too. You try to move your mouth but you feel too tired.
Tarzan then approaches with a big coconut made into a drink. A very tropical drink indeed, complete with the little parasol and bamboo straw. Your belly is full but the idea of a refreshing drink sounds incredibly tempting. Tarzan comes near you with a smile and you smile back. Yes, you really, really want that drink! The idea of tasting the coconut milk makes you salivate in advance. So when Tarzan presses the straw between your lips, you gulp greedily.
And you gulp, and you gulp, and you gulp. After a while, you try to move away but Tarzan frowns, insisting sternly that you keep drinking. He forces the coconut milk down your throat and from delicious the sweet beverage is now a nuisance. By the time the very large drink is gone, you are again a round-bellied mess, the skin of your stomach stretched taut. You feel and hear the liquid sloshing within. You whine you discomfort but Tarzan has a most satisfied smile upon his face. He pats your belly affectionately and then pokes it so that you giggle a bit uncontrollably. But why did he feed you so much? Just to be nice? Or for another reason?