Jack, who was somewhat lacking in both haggling skills and rudimentary intelligence, hopped off the cow and took the beans from the woman. “What do they do?” he asked.
“If you eat enough of them, you can clear out any room within minutes,” the woman replied. “But they have an even greater use. If you plant them, an enormous beanstalk will grow, stretching all the way to the sky. If you climb up the beanstalk, you will find yourself in the castle of a terrible giant.”
“Why the hell would I want to do that?”
“It'd be something new.”
Jack thought for a moment. “I guess you're right. Take the cow.”
“Actually,” said the woman, “These beans are worth a whole lot more than just that sorry-looking cow. Give me your sweater, too.”
“But I'll catch my death of cold!”
“These beans will magically provide warmth during your journey home.”
“Just how foolish do you think I am?” Jack demanded.
“You're not foolish at all,” insisted the woman.
“Why, thank you,” smiled Jack, flattered. “Here, take my sweater.”
And so Jack began the walk home. The woman, of course, had lied about the beans providing warmth, but Jack decided that didn't necessarily mean they wouldn't sprout a tremendous beanstalk leading to a giant's castle.
As soon as he arrived home he proudly walked up to his mother. “Mother, guess what I've done!”
“If you didn't do what I said I'm gonna kick your butt so hard that whenever you open your mouth you'll moon someone.”
He held out his hand and showed her the five beans, waiting for the look of joy and pride that would no doubt be crossing her features at any moment.
“You dumb little cretin nerd-like twerp!” she screamed. “These are magic beans! If we eat them, we'll have a beanstalk growing out of our stomachs!” She smacked them out of his hand, and due to perfect wind conditions the beans flew right out the window.
Jack was sent to bed without supper or even a decent story. He slept, and his dreams were a whirlwind of nightmare images: the old beggar woman, a giant wanting to eat him, Morty the Unfriendly Woodchuck, and others too terrifying to mention. There was also a rather nice image involving the cow and its udder.
The next morning, Jack looked out his window and saw that a huge beanstalk had indeed grown outside. His mother stormed into his room. “Great, just great,” she muttered. “As if we didn't have enough problems, now there's a beanstalk on top of my garden. I should've kept the cow and sold you into slavery.”
But Jack was excited. He rummaged through his closet, got out his climbing equipment, and immediately ran outside and began to work his way up the beanstalk. It wasn't long before he had made it all the way above the clouds and was greeted with the glorious sight of the giant's castle. It was so impressive that Jack momentarily forgot what he was doing and slid the entire way down, collecting several thorns where he'd much rather have none.
But he was undaunted. He climbed all the way back up, then hurried over to the staircase that led to the giant's front door. Realizing that the doorknob was far out of reach, Jack began to knock. “Let me in!” he called out.
A thundering voice responded. “Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!”
Jack began to knock again. “Avon calling!” he shouted. The door swung open, knocking Jack back down the stairs, back down the beanstalk, and about three feet into the ground. It hurt.
Jack was daunted this time, but still not very bright. He climbed back up the beanstalk and realized that the giant had left the door ajar. Jack squeezed inside and found himself in the giant's living room. The giant sat on his couch, looking at the biggest centerfold Jack had ever seen. Then the giant began to sniff and look around.
“Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.”
“This guy's poetry needs some work,” thought Jack.
The giant saw Jack, and snarled. “I'll grind your bones to make my bread!”
“Oh, that's gonna taste really good. You think that just because bones and bread have the same color that they're interchangeable? You need yeast, flour, all that stuff. And I think the marrow will significantly affect the texture.”
The giant started to say something, but halted in mid-"Duh” and sat back down on the couch. Within moments he was asleep. Steroids tend to have that effect. Looking around, Jack noticed a large bag that was overflowing with gold coins. Unable to believe his good fortune, Jack grabbed the five coins he would have gotten for the cow, removed the foil, and ate the chocolate inside. His appetite sated, Jack took a couple more coins to get his mother off his back, then returned to the beanstalk and slid down.
“Look, mother,” he said. “I took these coins from the castle just for you.”
His mother looked stern. “You little klepto. Didn't I teach you any better than that? Not only are you a thief, but I bet you left fingerprints all over the place. Now get that hot merchandise out of here—I don't want to be involved when this all goes down.”
Saddened, Jack ate the two coins without removing the foil. The only way to impress his mother was to bring her something even better than the coins. He'd noticed an oversized fruitcake (Momma Helga's Super Deluxe Fruitcake With Extra Green Chunks) that she was sure to love. And so Jack scurried back up the beanstalk once again.
He went over to the castle door, slipped inside, then gasped the gasp of the truly surprised as he realized that the couch was now bare. The thundering boom of the giant's footsteps grew louder, and he heard the giant say “Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!” The giant entered the room, picked up the pungent vial of Englishman's blood that rested on the table, and poured it out into the sink. Jack immediately hid behind a table leg and watched as the giant picked a goose that was resting in a basket.
“Okay, goose,” said the giant. “Lay me one of your golden eggs.”
The goose looked up at him. “This ain't the immaculate conception, buddy. You want golden eggs, you better be getting a gander up here pretty darn quick.”
“Lay me a golden egg now!” demanded the giant.
“Maybe you should walk around with a big lump of gold inside you for a change. You think it's comfortable? Gold's a little heavier than yolk, you know. You feel all bloated, you can barely keep your balance, it feels like passing a kidney stone when you finally lay it—believe me, I've got better things to do.”
The giant was not accustomed to having so many words spoken to him in one sitting, and so sat there with a blank look on his face for a moment. Then he growled and reached out to kill the goose.
Jack leaped out of his hiding spot and tried to yell “Stop!", but before he could the giant scooped him up and swallowed him whole. He slid down the giant's throat, passing a formerly handsome prince who would eventually be kissed in another fairy tale, and landed in his stomach.
“This,” Jack decided, “is really nasty.”
Basic human decency dictates that the actual contents of the giant's stomach not be described. But Jack did not become Stomach Acid Surprise. For the giant possessed the type of belly button known to the general public as an “Innie” rather than an “Outtie.” It was perhaps the deepest “Innie” in verifiable history, deep enough that Jack was able to squeeze through to safety.
The giant had by now fallen asleep. The goose was also asleep in its basket, and since Jack had already fallen down the temptation-laden path of criminal behavior he decided to steal it, figuring the freak show at the circus would pay at least five pieces of gold for it.
Tragically, he dropped the goose on the way down, and had to content himself with a decent meal. But the next day, Jack set off to climb the beanstalk yet again, because by now thievery was an addiction. He snuck into the castle, and watched as the giant picked up a magic harp that was in the shape of a Miss Generic Fantasy Land model.