Tom and the Magic Bean Stalk

Pretty Quiet on the newsgroup. So I will relay a story that I
remember reading to my children when they were young and still
listened to me.


Many updates ago, in a country several sectors away, there lived a
very old, very gnarly man with worn out black leather jacket and a
"big hair" toupee. Mr. Metallica had also lost most of his hearing.

One day, he called to his son. "Tom!" he called.
"What!" was yelled back from the squalid back room that was Tom's
sleeping quarters.
"Get your butt in here when I call you. Now then, we are out of
cash. We got nothing. Zippo. No bars in the back. Broke. Busted.
You understand?"
Tom nodded. It wasn't the first time his father had spent all the
money on booze, guitars, and groupies.
"Good. Now I want you to go out to the barn and take Ol Bessie to
the market. Sell her for as much as you can get. We will need the
money to get us through the winter. That and there is a Scorpions
concert next week I need tickets for."

Dutifully, if not belligerently, Tom went to barn and hitched the
tired old cow to a rope and led her down the road. While walking the
cow to market, Tom rounded a bend in the road. Suddenly, roaring
around the corner was a 1968 yellow VW microbus. Amid the rust and
peeling paint was a hand painted sign reading "Mirkwood Organic
Products".
With little warning, a lazy tired cow, and a heavily influenced
driver, Tom had few options. He stepped to the side of the road and
the Mirkwood-mobile slammed into Ol Bessie. She had given her last
quart of butter milk.

The driver of the van instantly got out. He had long hair, a tie-
dyed shirt, and was skinnier than Ally McBeal. "Dude," he exclaimed.
"I am so sorry. Looks like I did in your beast of burden. Oh man, my
old lady is gonna kill me."
"Why?" Tom asked nearly innocently. "Your van looks fine."
"It's not the wheels, dude. My old lady is a Hindu now. And I just
killed a cow. What am I gonna do!"
"Why don't you trade me the van for cow," Tom suggested. "Then you
make up some story, lie to her face, feel guilt free, and know that I
won't rat you out."
"Oh wow, I couldn't take your cow for just this old van. That
wouldn't be fair." Tom looked at the van. It was rusty, but still
running. The cow was scrawny and should have been turned into boot
leather years ago. Still, Tom was willing to bargain.
"What else you got to throw in the deal?"
"All I got is these three magic beans," the driver said.
"What's so magic about them?"
"Just swallow one and you'll find out."

Tom took the beans and watched as the driver retrieved a wheel barrow
from the back of the van, put the carcass in, tossed Tom the keys, and
tooled back down the road, out of sight. Tom looked at the three
beans in his hand. They did not look like much. But the van! His
father would be most proud, especially since the tank was full of
petrol.
But still. Magic beans? Tom didn't know what to think of the scary
looking driver. Or his beans. But what harm could come from
swallowing one bean. Tom popped the smallest one in his mouth and
swallowed.

******

When Tom woke up, it was dark, he had a three day growth of beard on
his face, and a new tattoo on his left butt check. He convinced
himself that it was probably better that he did not remember what had
happened. He then drove the van home to show his father.

Tom's father was more than pleased with the new mode of
transportation. He didn't even ask Tom for any details. Tom slunk
back into his room and climbed into bed. He felt flashbacks coming on
and wanted to lie down. Before he passed out though, he realized he
still had two beans clutched in his hand. Not wanting a new trip to
the magic kingdom, he tossed them out the window. He then spent the
night soundly sleeping while his father played with the van radio all
night long.

When Tom woke up in the morning, he staggered into the kitchen.
Nobody else was in the house, but he heard the radio outside. He went
looking for his father but before he got to the back of the house, he
came across two bean stalks that had not been there before.
Both plants where 8 feet in diameter and stretched up into the
clouds. The bean stalk on the right had many unusual leaves and
branches. They were in the shape of trumpets, trombones, tubas,
sousaphones, flutes, oboes, bassoons, drums, and French horns.
Tom thought for a few seconds and then realized it would probably be
a bad experience to choose the musical fruit bean stalk. He started
to climb the other bean stalk. "Maybe at the top there will be a
woman with big boobs," Tom said under his breath. And up he went.

Tom had been climbing for a long time. The ground was far below.
But the clouds were still far above. He was getting tired and needed
a rest. Then as Tom pulled himself up onto another branch, he saw a
door in the stalk and sign above it that read "Java Dave's Coffee
House". "Ah, I see Evil Empire is starting to franchise," Tom said as
he entered the coffee house.
To his surprise, the place was packed. Tom had to wait in line for
10 minutes just to get a double espresso with whipped cream and
sprinkles and a blueberry muffin. (The scones looked a bit stale.)
"That will be $7.45," the 18 year old cashier told Tom.
Tom handed over a crisp $10 bill that he had just printed up in his
basement. "So what's up above on the stalk?"
"Oh, just a Starbucks."
"No, I mean above that. At the very top."
"Oh, I don't think there are any coffee shops up there. It's pretty
barren. Nobody goes up there because of the Giant."
"Giant?" Tom gulped (he was actually swallowing part of the muffin).
"Well, yes, if you believe the rumors. The Giant eats people, has a
housekeeper, a singing harp, and goose that lays gold bars."
"Wouldn't a goose lay gold eggs?"
The cashier stared at Tom. Tom didn't budge. The cashier said "May
I help who's next please?"
Tom took the hint and finished his espresso and muffin outside. All
those patrons on laptops made the atmosphere rather stuffy. And now
Tom could think. A Giant? Gold bars? A serving wench? Could make
for a good day. Tom started climbing again.

Tom passed the Starbucks. But it was shutdown. He would have to
make it all the way to the top with just the double espresso. But
after hours of climbing, he did make it to the top. He stood on the
clouds and looked out into the distance. There he saw a huge castle.
He started walking.
As Tom got closer, he noticed that there were sheep hiding behind
almost every tree. They were scared, motionless, and very quiet. And
Tom got closer to the castle.
Finally Tom stood at the castle wall. He looked at the door. It was
huge. Surely the giant was gigantic. Tom pushed on the door and
squeezed in. He was in awe at the size of the castle.
After wandering around, Tom found himself in the Giant's kitchen.
There, standing on a ladder at the table was the serving wench. She
was preparing a massive meal for the Giant. She wheeled a cart of
food into the serving area. Then there was a roar.
"Mutton! I want mutton!" The whole castle shook and the serving
wench ran back into the kitchen.
Tom snuck around and looked into the dinning room. Sitting at a huge
table was the Giant. If he stood up, he would have been 14 feet
tall. His arms were thicker around than Tom himself. His skin was
leather tough, covered in thick hairs. He had a huge club propped up
next to him on the table. And he wore an old, worn T-shirt that said
"Petting Zoo Deity"
The table was littered with gnawed lamb bones and empty Pabst Blue
Ribbon cans. Tom ducked back into the kitchen. While the serving
wench was pushing the food cart past, Tom reached into his pocket and
pulled out a piece of folded paper that he got from the Mirkwood van.
He sprinkled to contents of the paper onto the food. Nobody saw.
The Giant gobbled down the food. He then roared for music. The
serving wench brought to him a harp shaped like an over-exaggerated
Jane Russell. The Giant said "Play" and the harp started playing Alan
Parsons. The music and powder soon had the Giant soundly asleep.
Tom groomed his hair with his fingers and approached the serving
wench. He proposed that they leave the castle together. The serving
wench agreed, grabbed the harp, and told Tom to get the goose that
laid the gold bars.
"Not eggs?" Tom asked.
The serving wench just looked at Tom. Finally Tom got the hint and
went for the goose. Together they fled castle and started running
towards the bean stalk. Right before they got to the stalk, Tom heard
the Giant bellowing "Fee Fi Foe Fart. I smell the blood of an English
Tart."
"Just a minute there Bungy," Tom called out. "I am not English, nor
am I a tart."
"Yes," replied the Giant, "but it rhymes and I got to say 'fart'.
Now I am going to cook you and eat you."
Desperate to get away before the Giant grabbed him, Tom pointed to
the Giant's boots and said "Hey, somebody wrote the word 'Gullible' on
the bottom of your shoes."
The dim witted Giant sat down on the ground and inspected the bottom
of his boots. Tom took the opportunity to start climbing down the
bean stalk. But the Giant was not far behind.

Tom got to the bottom of the bean stalk and retrieved the axe. He
chopped quickly and soon the stalk was creaking and groaning. Then it
toppled over. The giant tumble down into the middle of a nearby city,
bought a house, took on mortgage, two car payments, a wife, and worked
as a wage slave for mid-level high tech firm. He was never seen
again.

Tom, happy to have vanquished the Giant, picked up the goose and harp
and went looking for the serving wench. He found her, in his father
bed (with his father). "Hey, you snooze, you loose." she told him.
Tom sighed but then the goose honked very loudly and laid a gold bar
right in Tom's hands. Tom climbed into the VW micro-bus, told the
harp to play some ZZ Top, and started to drive into town to deposit
the bar in the bank. Then he planned on buying his own serving wench.