Okay, I'll come clean on the mangos. When I was a wee child, my auntie was taking care of me while I was sick. But she needed to go out and place some bets with her bookie at a bar around the corner. So she put a children's record on the record player to keep me unaware that I was alone while she was gone.
Unfortunately, she set the RPM speed too fast for the record. Worse, the record had a bad scratch on it so that after about a minute, the needle would jump back to the beginning.
This is the song. It played continuously for an hour...
and to this day I get a panic attack when I hear the word "mango."
I even fled the movie theater when I heard, "Candy-gram for Mister Mongo,"
thinking Clevon Little might be speaking with a Carribbean accent.