A Can O' Beans

Two days before payday. So ... a can of pork and beans for lunch. The pork is but a vain hope in a heap of beans. How do they get away with that lie, year after year? There's so little pork in that tin can, it could almost pass a Kosher inspection.

Contemplating the bean can, thinking about the inherent humor in such a simple thing.

Imagine a hiker moseying into his campsite, tossing down his pack and pitching his tent. Meanwhile, a furry paw reaches from a bush and borrows the pack for a moment, then tosses it back. Camper fails to notice. Camper sits on a rock and extricates from the pack a can of beans. Reaches in again for the can opener. No can opener.

Goes berserk. Dumps out the pack. Searches the campsite. Then makes several attempts to open the can, using a fork, a stick, a rock, a hammer, etc.

Finally gives up in a rage and throws the can against a tree. It of course bounces back and knocks him out cold.

At which point we see a very dignified bear stride into the campsite and say:

"Man, I thought he would NEVER give up."

The bear then picks up the can of beans and calmly opens it with the can opener that he borrowed earlier from the camper's pack. Then sits on the rock and enjoys his meal.