Saturday Satire : The Baked Beans

Baked Beans

One day I met a sweet, lovely woman and fell in love. We spent most of our time together, and my life became wonderful as never before. When it became apparent that we would marry and set up home together, I made the supreme sacrifice and gave up baked beans. We married, and were so happy together.

Some months later, on my birthday, my car broke down on the way home from work. Since I lived a little way out in the countryside I called my wife and told her that I would be a little late, because I had to walk home. She said it was fine, because we were to eat a little later than usual that night. It was quite a pleasant evening, and I quite liked the idea of a walk.

On my way, I passed by a small roadside trucker's diner.... and the smell of baked beans was more than I could stand. With three or four miles to walk, I figured that I would work off any ill effects by the time I reached home, so I stopped at the diner and before I knew it, I had consumed not one, not even two, but three three large orders of baked beans! Absolute bliss!

All the way home, I made sure that I released all the gas. Upon my arrival, my wife seemed excited to see me and exclaimed delightedly: "Darling, I have a surprise for dinner tonight."

She insisted on blindfolding me, and led me to my chair at the dinner table. The anticipation was overwhelming!

I took a seat, and just as she was about to remove my blindfold, the telephone rang. She made me promise not to touch the blindfold until she returned, and went to answer the phone. The baked beans I had consumed were still affecting me and the pressure was becoming almost unbearable, so while my wife was out of the room I seized the opportunity, shifted my weight to one leg and..... well, I just had to let one go. It was not only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck running over a skunk in front of a sewage works. I felt around, took my napkin from my lap and fanned the air around me vigorously. Then, shifting to the other cheek, I just could not help myself... I ripped off three more. My God, I tell you it was GHASTLY. It was worse than rotting cabbage.

Keeping my ears carefully tuned to the conversation in the other room, I went on like this for several more minutes. I just could not help it. The relief, however, was absolutely indescribable.

When eventually the telephone farewells signalled the end of my freedom, I quickly fanned the air a few more times with my napkin, placed it on my lap and folded my hands back on it feeling so very relieved, and pleased with myself.

My face must have been the picture of innocence when my wife returned, apologizing for taking so long. She asked me if I had peeked through the blindfold, and I assured her I had not.

At this point, she removed the blindfold, and twelve dinner guests seated around the table chorused: "Happy Birthday!"