Subject: Fw: Baked Beans
>
> Once upon a time, there lived a woman who had a maddening passion for
> baked beans. She loved them but, unfortunately, they had always had a
> very embarrassing and somewhat lively reaction to her. Then one day she
> met a guy and fell in love.
>
> When it became apparent that they would marry she thought to herself,
> "He is such a sweet and gentle man, he would never go for this carrying
> on." So she made the supreme sacrifice and gave up beans.
>
> Some months later her car broke down on the way home from work.
> Since she lived in the country she called her husband and told him that
> she would be late because she had to walk home. On her way, she passed a
> small diner and the odor of the baked beans was more than she could
> stand. Since she still had miles to walk, she figured that she would
> walk off any ill effects by the time she reached home. So, she stopped at
> the
> diner and before she knew it, she had consumed three large orders of baked
> beans.
> All the way home, she putt-putted. And, upon arriving home, she felt
> reasonably sure she could control it.
>
> Her husband seemed excited to see her and exclaimed delightedly,
> "Darling, I have a surprise for dinner tonight." He then blindfolded her
> and led her to her chair at the table. She seated herself and just as he
> was
> about to remove the blindfold from his wife, the telephone rang. He made
> her
> promise not to touch the blindfold until he returned. He then went to
> answer the
> phone.
>
> The baked beans she had consumed were still affecting her and the
> pressure was becoming almost unbearable, so while her husband was out of
> the
> room
> she seized the opportunity, shifted her weight to one leg and let it go.
> It was not only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck running
> over a skunk in front of a pulpwood mill. She took her napkin and fanned
> the air
> around
> her vigorously. Then, she shifted to the other cheek and ripped three
> more,
> which
> reminded her of cabbage cooking.
>
> Keeping her ears tuned to the conversation in the other room, she went
> on like this for another ten minutes.
>
> When the phone farewells signaled the end of her freedom, she fanned the
> air a few more times with her napkin, placed it on her lap, and folded her
> hands
> upon it, smiling contentedly to herself.
>
> She was the picture of innocence when her husband returned, apologizing
> for taking so long, he asked her if she peeked, and she assured him that
> she
> had not.
>
> At this point, he removed the blindfold.
>
> There were twelve dinner guests seated around the table to wish her a
> Happy Birthday!
>
> |
