There once was a man named B. Counter.
He counted out beans by the hour.

He’d sort through them all.
Both the large and the small.

Until one day he just fucking died, and all he had to show for it was a bunch of dumb bean piles that didn’t even belong to him.

And when the Chief Bean Officer found out, he just shrugged, and then he told Mrs. H. Resources to make Ms. Unpaid Intern No. 53 sweep the millions of sorted-out beans into one huge, green-gray office trash bin — thereby casually undoing all of the meticulous work that Mr. B. Counter had spent most decades of his life doing.

The intern complied, and then she rolled the bin of beans down the hall to a dim, blank, brown office where Mr. N. Guy was excitedly setting up to start sorting out all the beans all over again.

And sometimes Mr. New Guy would find like one or two extra beans that they didn’t know about before, and he would get really excited, so he’d email the CBO and very specifically ask him where he wanted the beans to go? And the CBO would reply to the and/or question with, “Thx”