The quandary presented itself on a Tuesday. Frank had made his "Famous Five-Alarm Memorial Day Chili" for a neighborhood potluck. It contained three types of beans, ghost peppers, and a secret splash of espresso. It was, by all accounts, a masterpiece. He’d left the pot on the counter to cool, lid slightly ajar.
It came from the wall.
Here was the true quandary: to pull the ferret out meant enduring more bites, more chili, and the distinct possibility of getting his hand stuck. To leave the ferret meant dismantling the wall with a sledgehammer, which his landlord would not appreciate. the frank and beans quandary
The neighborhood potluck that evening was chili-less. Frank brought a bag of store-brand tortilla chips and a haunted look in his eyes. Sheila told the story to everyone. Beans spent the night in a cardboard box, wearing a tiny, improvised cone made from a coffee filter, plotting his next move. The quandary presented itself on a Tuesday
It started, as these things often do, with a pot of chili and a tragic lack of foresight. It was, by all accounts, a masterpiece
Frank reached in. Beans bit him. Hard.
