You and me are in a lot of trouble, and somebody's gonna burst our bubble. Your husband, my wife. My marriage, your life. So we went to Maine out on the east coast that very night but we wrecked our automobile around Rhode Island and had to stop at the Beans Inn. It was run by a man named Beans and that was also what the motel was made out of. I thought it rather quaint. Mr. Beans had glued beans together to build the motel rooms and their furniture, strung beans on threads for curtains, and made rugs and linens from beanstalk fibers , which were rough, but just right for Businessman Jack Mugelemann, who had a giant headache. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the beanbag. He dreamt a giant beanstalk grew to the height of the moon, grabbed the moon with it's big green stalky vines, and then pulled it down to earth. It was a terrible dream. The beanstalk had taken control of gravity! Then the beanstalk tried to take control of me through some vegetative think ray that it shot at me from dangly things at the end of specialized vines. I was almost rendered into a string-puppet, my arms, and legs flapping about; I reddened with humiliation, people started giggling. “Unhand me!” I shouted to the beanstalk; the vegetative think ray let me go. The people applauded as I slunk away. "Best puppet show ever!" I heard one say. "I am not a marionette," I screamed, "I am a human being!" The beanstalk shook with laughter. "Bean! Stop laughing & HELP ME for GAWD's sake!" But I could see Bean was just stringing me along. Suddenly my head jerked back. My arms & legs felt stiff. "Now dance for me my puppet!" Great. I’m an unwilling Pinocchio subject to Bean’s whims and no Blue Fairy to save me. Oh well. Maybe I’ll make the best of it and have Bean schedule a play date with Howdy Doody.

 

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