Kali

My college roommate Dave had zero survival instincts but massive panic response. Back in 2021 when people were freaking out about supply chain shortages, he panicked and ordered a 50-pound industrial sack of dry pinto beans from a restaurant depot website. The sack arrived. Dave had never cooked a bean in his life. He read online that you have to soak them in water overnight, so he dumped the entire 50-pound bag into our communal plastic storage bin, dragged it into the hallway, filled it with water from the shower head, and went to sleep. At around 3:45 AM, we woke up to what sounded like a wet bomb going off. Beans expand when they soak. Dave did not account for bean volume physics. The plastic bin had exploded under the sheer pressure of 50 pounds of hydrated legumes. I walked out into the hall and it was just ankle-deep in cold, slimy, swollen pinto beans stretching from our front door to the kitchen. Dave was standing there in his boxers holding a soup ladle, completely frozen, looking at me like he had just accidentally summoned an ancient deity. The apartment smelled like raw starch until we moved out in May.