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.