Written by: Dave Strider & John Egbert

In a little shack down in Mexico there lived a bean farmer. This was no ordinary bean farmer. This was Mark. When you first look at this scrawny white kid trying to pass off as a god damn Mexican your first thought wouldn't be; "Oh this guy must be one of those bean kind of guys," but you were wrong. This man is the bean master daddy. Name a bean and this guy has all the information on it. If you don't believe me just look at his backyard. These little fucking plants are sprouting up faster than cheap hookers in Vegas. He likes to name every bean one by one. He says and I quote, "These things are my motherfucking miracles." Anyway lets get onto the real shitty ass story here.

Habia una vez (If you have no clue popping on your head on what that meant it means Once upon a time. It was too cliché to say it in English. If you are Spanish and reading this well cudos to you that language is coming in handy isn't it.) the man they call Mark was just finishing up his manly gardening. He harvested his favorite beans today, kidney beans. He put them in their own little can and then he did something fantastic. He made the thing his child. The can of beans was his child. Mark gave it a room, its own little bed and it was pretty kinky if you ask me. The can of beans is now going to be called, Kram. Kram was this mans little can of sunshine. What they had together was pretty special. No one ever got as close as these two things right here. Not even you and the person you have sexual intercourse with. No. Mark and Kram were pretty close even without all that sexual bullshit.

After tucking Kram in is little bed, Mark gave it a little kiss on the lid. "You're lucky I love you, Kram. If not you would have been my dinner three nights ago. Mhm... You.. must... taste pretty nice. Yeah. The smell of little Kram bring fried up in the morning must smell pretty fan-fucking-tastic, but I can't eat you now my child. No. I can't eat you now." Mark turned off the lights after tucking the little can away and left the door open only a crack. Before actually leaving (it really tore the dude to shreds trying to leave this tiny can of miracles behind) the grouch of Mexico smiled. "I'm going to make you fabulous." After that he walked over to his laptop surfing Amazon for anything that might fit little Kram. "He is going to have to look nice for dinner. If Kram is going to live under this roof he needs to learn that he can't go naked unless I want that little shit naked. He needs to keep his can on and cover up." That's when he found it. The perfect sweater meant to be put on the body of infants. It was pink covered with cheesy hearts and a little "I love dad" on the back. He ordered it and looked forward to getting it in the mail the next morning.

It never came. (Those pesky mailmen always taking the fucking mail. God I hate those people. )

A week later little Kram has grown to be a worthy man-can. He was already holding shit on his lid like shitty plates, little bean friends and he was even a womanizer. That thing got more women than Mark ever did in his entire life. Women just piled on him rubbing their hands so fast on little Kram's can it was almost like electricity. Mark just repelled women. He always wished women would rub his cans, but that's what happens when you never go through puberty. Let's just have a moment of silence before this story continues...

...

...

Marky Warky was slowly getting jealous of Krammy whammy and also curious. He wanted to see what was going on inside Kram's can himself since the women seemed to dig it. "Oh, hey Kram. Nice... Label you have there... I really like it." Kram stayed quiet since he couldn't talk. (What the fuck were you expecting? Some magical can from under the bean garden that was blessed by God himself? Ha ha ha, no. This is reality not some story of Jack and the fucking Beanstalk. This is the story of Mark and his ordinary can of beans.) "I uh.. Think it is that time in every cans' life where they explore their wrinkles, but since you don't have arms I think I should help. You gotta' see what's underneath.. To understand your cananatomy, so get your metal ass over here." The can stayed still. Now Mark was beginning to get upset. He didn't understand why the can wasn't talking back or listening. He thought he was a great dad, but he was just...

a bean farmer.

That's all he ever was and that's all he ever will be. He will never be a man or even a kid who went through puberty. He'll just be that guy who grows your beans in the back of his house.

Back to the story.

Mark took it upon himself to inch closer and closer to Kram. He just had to know what was so special about that can. He needed to explore it himself. The thing he thought was his child was going to have his "beans" popped today. "Kram this might feel weird at first, but you're going to like it. I set up life for you in the future living as Cinnamonsparkle in Vegas. You will make a great stripper one day, but here is where it begins," He said as he took the can in between his tiny little grabby hands. Licking his lips he began to sweat. This was intense. The moment was all coming down to these last few actions. It is the hardest thing the kid ever did. If he doesn't do it right all hell would break loose and the wonderful bond between the two would be destroyed and just crumble, burning in the firey pits of hell. Slowly he unwrapped Kram's wrapper with his mouth. Taking the thin piece of plastic in between his lips he started to go crazy. (Kinky isn't it? I know you ladies out there are just going crazy over Kram. He's a great womanizer after all.) Kram stayed still.

Once the label was off he pressed his cheek against the cold metal. It was cold. Cold metal. "Oh Kram you feel chilly today. I'm sure your mom must of had it going on." (It was Stacy's mom.) He started to twirl the can around in his mouth making weird whale noises. This was the only action Mark ever got and he fucking loved it. Kram still didn't do anything. Mark continued groping the little thiny that unlocks the thiny and we don't have a clue what it is called.(because no one honestly gives two shits about what they use to open a can. It is just there to make life easy unless you get your tongue stuck in it. Then you're screwed.) Mark began to lick the rim of the can giving himself a cut in his mouth. Blood began to squirt out like a fountain, but he didn't care. He thought it looked majestic. The blood squirting out like ink coming out of a squid on top of a boat with a breeze of wind blowing its long tentacles blowing lightly behind it in the breeze and the sunlight ascending down on it while a sailor in the back played 70's music. He started to feel a weird sensation in his pants, but then it hurt. It hurt him bad. Mark dropped Kram and the can just rolled on the floor. Mark feel to his knees looking over at the now broken window and next to him (right where his tiny crotch was) a brick. The brick's name was Nassu. The teenaged bean farmer crawled across the broken glass in his tiny shack and pulled himself up onto the counter to look out the window. That's when he realized who threw the bricks. Two girls, Regina and Crystal were standing outside the house cracking up. "Oh my god dude, were you really going to fuck a can of beans?" "Ha ha ha loser!" Snarky but yet cool and clever remarks came from the two girls as they pointed with two fingers and laughed. (Heck yeah, two finger point.) Mark started getting angry with them, but the brick ended up doing more then just a small hit. Since Mark was in that kinkied up mood because of Kram and his pants were tighter than normal the brick ended up hitting his erection so hard it was pushed higher then it should be. It ended up going inside his own body piercing some important internal organ. He laid on the floor and bled to death, but on the Brightside his death made it look like he finally went through puberty and was on his way to becoming a grown, dead man.

Crystal and Regina just starred at Mark as he died, but then just looked at Kram. Regina crawled through the broken window, stepped on top of Mark maybe accidently kicking his face once or twice and grabbed the can of beans. Whipping all the blood, spit and whatever else Mark put on that can she held it up high. That's what the two girls ate for dinner that night.

That my friends is the true meaning of Mexico.

P.S. Sorry for the boner killing.

P.P.S. Sorry for being the cause of any tears and or other traumatically bad experiences you may or may not have experienced while reading this fanfiction.

P.P.P.S I am not sorry, Mark. Your beans tasted pretty nice.

P.P.P.S R.I.P. Kram