Sam I Am sat down at his table in his comfortable breakfast nook. He was all set to have a lovely meal of green eggs and ham. It was his favorite.
But something was wrong.
Something was amiss.
There was green eggs on his plate. That was right. That was okay.
But that was not ham — green or otherwise.
He picked up his three-pronged fork and poked the splotchy, pink and white square next to his green eggs.
“Boing! Boing!” the pink square twanged.
Sam I Am poked it again.
Again, the pink square twanged, “Boing! Boing!”
He set his fork next to his plate.
“Well. This isn’t right. This is all wrong. This isn’t green eggs and ham. This is green eggs and spam.”
He stared thoughtfully at the square of a splotchy nature. “I have eaten many a strange thing in many a strange place. But I must draw the line at something and somewhere. I cannot eat green eggs and spam at my kitchen table in my comfortable nook. I cannot eat it here or there. I cannot eat it anywhere. I do not like spam. I do not.”
He picked up the pink and white square. It squicked and boinged at the same time. He ran it to the garbage disposal, tossed it in, and turned on the machine.
“BOINGBOINGBOIIIIIINGBOINGBOINGBOOOOOIIIIIIING!” The mysterious meat square seemed to protest, but Sam I Am didn’t care. He went into his refrigerator and pulled out a thick, spiraled green ham.
He smiled happily and carried it to his kitchen table in his comfortable little nook. He set it on the table next to his green eggs.
“Ahh, green eggs and ham.” He sliced off a large hunk of meat. “It really is the best.”