Intro music plays: GEORGE and JERRY are sitting in a small, ramshackle lean-to shelter at a table.
Jerry: Wait, you decided to leave the group? Didn’t they have a whole underground bunker full of food?
George: Let me tell you about that bunker, Jerry. There was NO variation! No variation at all!
George: That’s right! And do you know what food they were all eating?
Jerry: Don’t say it!
GEORGE emphatically bangs his fist on the table.
JERRY copies GEORGE’S slamming down his fist in a half-hearted manner.
George: That’s right! Beans! Ev-er-y single night, Jerry! Beans for breakfast, beans for lunch, and do you know what was for dinner?
Jerry: Not beans?
George shrugging: I had no choice.
Jerry: Well, obviously.
KRAMER bursts into the little shack, to thunderous applause. His hair is askew and he’s got a rifle slung over his back, the strap tangled up around one arm. He struggles to take off the rifle, nearly falling on his ass in the process.
Kramer: George! Hey, I thought you were with that survival group with the bunker?
George: Nope. Left them.
Kramer: So, uh, you’re saying there’s an open spot?
KRAMER smooths his hair back, although it immediately springs back up.
George: It’s a bean group.
Kramer: A bean group?
George: That’s right, a bean group. All they had, every day. Beans.
Kramer: Hey, I like beans.
George makes shooing gestures: Go for it, then! But when you come crawling back here, well, I’ll be waiting!
KRAMER scoops up his rifle, spins around, barely keeps his balance, and leaves.
George conversationally, to JERRY: The worst part, though…
Jerry: Wait, let me guess. The seasonings?
George: Not at all.
Jerry: No can opener?
George: Not a problem.
Jerry thinking hard: The smell in the bunker at night?
George with satisfaction: Nailed it.
Funky saxophone plays, scene fades out, switches to Elaine in a scene where she tries to figure out why she always ends up with the heaviest pack of her survival group.