Once, a long time ago—some say seven years,
though the exact date cannot be named—a young lad named MacGoo was shopping for
fresh fruit and vegetables. This
particular day, he was fussing over which variety of beans to purchase. Mr MacGoo loved beans and usually went for
plain green beans. But on this particular
day, something told him another bean might be worth buying, and that something
was usually right.
“Excuse me, shop-keep?” he wailed in frustration, “Could you recommend
me a bean, this fine day? I’m after
something a little—different.”
The attendant peered at Mr MacGee with a little curiosity, unsure as to
whether a trick was being played.
Surely, he thought, a customer would never ask for a bean recommendation—they all taste the
same, anyhow!
But the attendant was very wrong here.
Not all beans taste the same. They may look similar, some even so similar
you can’t tell the difference; and yes, they are in a sense all beans, just as
we are all living creatures. But it is a
simple fact that not all beans taste the same.
Line
up a selection of beans one rainy day and see for yourself.
And so the attendant replied claiming that they’re just beans and that a
bean’s a bean and there’s no real reason to put too much effort into deciding
on a variety of bean.
A
little taken aback, Mr MacGee raised an eyebrow at the fellow, peered across
the range of beans and settled on the name he fancied the most: the MacGoogus Bean.
“What’s that one like?” he enquired pointedly.
“That one, sir? Oh, no.
That, in particular, I can say with very little doubt, would not be a
bean to your liking. It’s a very, well,
unpopular bean. Only strange people with
strange tastes buy the MacGoogus Bean.”
But this notion tickled Mr MacGee’s fancy, for
he had always had a liking for unusual things; things that weren’t just
run-of-the-mill type things. Things with character.
He picked the bean up, examined it.
It had, to his surprise, a very colourful little body, with nice curves
around the edges and two perfect bumps across its mid-area.
What a
bean! he mused, excitedly.
A
fire grew in his belly. This bean was the bean.
“I’ll take it.”
The attendant eyed him yet again, a little unsure.
“Just the, uh—just the one bean, sir?”
“Yes. I would like to buy this one,
particular bean. Is there a problem,
shop-keep?”
Hiding his laughter, the attendant produced a small paper bag and placed
the bean inside, all the while trying as hard as possible not to burst. Meanwhile, Mr MacGee stared into his mind’s
eye in child-like happiness.
What
wonders, he thought, that this bean could bring me. How could such a bean ever be overlooked? This man hasn’t a clue about beans! He just sells things, blindly, like a
programmed robot.
He left the store, feeling quite content and excited.
And so, after pacing home in excitement, he opened the little brown bag
and reached in for the bean.
“Ouch!” he cried. “Why…! Why this cheeky little bean just bit me!”
And it had. The MacGoogus bean
had bitten Mr MacGee on the finger. But
he wasn’t hurt; in fact, he was a rather amused. The bite was, quite clearly, a MacGoogus Love Bite. It has already taken a liking to him!
After
pulling the cheeky MacGoogus bean out and seeing a friendly smile on the little
thing, both knew they would get along just fine.s
And they still do, to this very day.
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