My life changed when I met it. I was only 8 years old at the time when, walking through the woods, I came upon a small cave shrouded in leafy ferns and mosses. Passing through the threshold; I fumbled in darkness, bumbling down a narrow track before emerging into a room of mirrored surfaces and impossible angles.

That's when I saw it. Standing over seven feet tall and with long hands poised in a perfectly executed reverse double-boi; the yeeti. It grabbed me with it's warm safe hands and slowly began to fill my trousers with beans: thick beans, juicy beans, beans that would make a man weep and sigh and sing in exquisite agony. One scoop, then another: two scoops in all, before bundling me into swaddling clothes and sending me on my way.

Oh how I miss that yeeti. Oh how I dream of him to boi me with beans twice more.