Baked beans—the mainstay of working class scumbags! Whether you’re a fan of the legendary beans on toast or just can’t survive off anything except beets, them beans done got you covered!

But… what happens if you get addicted to baked beans?

Truth be told, this is a more hellish world to enter into then heroin and Pot Noodle sandwich addictions combined. Thankfully, our doctor is on hand to help today’s sad act wastrel to get his life back on track.

Absence (of beans) Makes the Heart Grow Fonder (of beans)

Disclaimer: Ignore all of our idiotic and incorrect medical “advice”.

Help me... HELP ME!!! HELP! HEEEELP! HELP ME! OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!! HELP!

Sorry, doctor... my life is a mess...

I'm in ruin...

I take one step forward, then I get the tin opener out and take 32 tins of baked beans a day step back.

Where will this end!? What of me in 10 years!?

The beans, man. I dream of them. They're in my dreams. They're in my bed! I don't have a girlfriend, I just empty baked beans into my bed... AND I SLEEP WITH THEM! ARGHHHHH!!! And it's gross!

Then I wake up in the morning and have beans on toast. Then at lunch I have more beans on toast. Then for dinner I have beans on toast. Then for a late-night snack I have beans on toast.

Beans.

Beans.

Baked... beans...

I'm more baked bean than man at this point. A pathetic wastrel. A sad loser with nothing to look forward to except my day job of stacking baked beans on the shelves of the supermarket where I work while trying not to steal the baked beans from the shelves I just stacked. Then it's beans, beans, beans... Baked Beans Benny my colleagues call me.

I try to laugh that nickname off...

I try to live it down...

But the beans... THE BEANS! 

Help me, doctor... you're my only hope. Help me, doctor... you're my only hope. Help me, doctor... you're my only hope. Help me, doctor... you're my only hope. Help me, doctor... you're my only hope. Help me, doctor... you're my only hope. Help me, doctor... you're my only hope. [message continued on a loop here]

Hi Benny! God, you’re annoying. Really, really annoying. Have to pity your colleagues on this one, I’m afraid, you must be a constant drag to be around.

That being said, as an unqualified doctor I do have a commitment to fulfil here towards you. And baked beans addiction is fairly common due to the… delicious… gooey… bean-based excellence within the tin…

Or… yes, a course… a course of antibiotics is what you need! We need to get some penicillin into you, lad, that’ll thrash the beans out of your system! It’s a cure-all so will take care of the probably scurvy and whatnot you’re also labouring under.

I’ve booked you into the clinic for tomorrow at midday. Don’t be late! What happens is pretty simple:

• You turn up.
• There’s a delay of 90 minutes for no apparent reason.
• You see the doctor.

Dr. Wapojif then inserts the penicillin into your ears and you’re all good to go! The apt thing is we have a free-tin-of-baked-beans policy at the moments! One of those no frills baked beans that triggered a price war in 1994. Bonus! Kowabunga, dude!!

Obviously, we run a US-based system here as we’re not part of the NHS.

That’ll be £335,000 in advance, please, otherwise no service. If your cheque bounces we’ll also make sure you bloody well bounce, too. Straight into a Manchester canal, matey!