Silvery Beans Winner
Yea. He’s that cool.
Mortie! Get me black and blue salad and a mimosa, light on the -osa — I’m having my palpitations. What a blessing!
Describe the myriad ways your life has changed since winning Silvery Beans.
How has my life changed? Oh, the myriad! Let’s see… I now drive the Batmobile (not just a Batmobile, but the Batmobile), I can turn invisible, and the sweat from my temples can heal minor injuries. I have also started to hang my toilet paper so that it comes from under the roll rather than over it, which I’m honestly not entirely comfortable with. Still, its novel enough for the time being to give me some “Wowza”-factor enjoyment. I no longer stay at home watching reruns of Jeopardy, drinking Boone’s Farm, and crying myself to sleep to old Chick Corea records on Friday nights. Instead, I eat lots of fried stuff with cheese and slap people on the back when I laugh boisterously (whether the slappee is laughing as well or not (or eating)).
Pick one: Silvery Beans or eternal life. Please explain your choice.
Silvery Beans, hands down. Why? I have always espoused a “Quality over Quantity” philosophy, and there’s nothing that says “Quality” better than the Silvery Beans. Well, maybe a private jet with plush carpeting, but I didn’t win one of those – and I’d be willing to pit my Silvery Beans against your umpteen-million-dollar ‘aeroplane’ any day. Who do you think would win in a head-on collision? Beans, that’s who. “What, Grey Poupon dude? You want some of this action? I didn’t think so!”
Some people have said that winning Silvery Beans is a much lesser degree of awesome than winning Golden Kraut. Please explain how these people are completely wrong.
These people are wrong largely because I drive the freakin’ Batmobile (see above). Do you really want to argue with the guy driving the Batmobile? Besides, I wouldn’t have the Batmobile if it weren’t for the Beans. Kraut winners, by and large, drive faded-yellow Gremlins that smell like creamed corn.
Please note that the above is not an invitation for people to pull up to me and try to start political “discussions” with me while I’m at Sonic in the Batmobile. Ernie, this means you: take the hint, man.
If we were to write a hit country song about Silvery Beans, what would we title it?
“There Aren’t Enough Sleeveless White Undershirts in The World” (I was going to use the colloquialism “wifebeaters” for the subject of the above, but that seemed like it could be misconstrued in this context).