Janie Cameron details the horror of watching iconic New Zealand children’s television presenter Suzy Cato transform a kiwi favourite into the unthinkable.
As a child of the ’90s, Suzy Cato taught me many things: the perils of headlice, how to water a person, and perhaps most importantly, that you’re never too old for a scrunchie. Despite being a total Suzy’s World fangirl, I somehow missed the episode in which Suzy demonstrates an unnecessarily graphic reenactment of what happens when you eat baked beans.
“Two identical plates of baked beans on toast,” Suzy announces proudly, standing over the sloppy snack we all know and love. “Now comes the fun part… EXPERIMENTATION,” she says, eyes wide with an alarming enthusiasm.
“I, Suzy Cato, will attempt to duplicate for you in a laboratory situation, the hidden metabolic processes by which your body processes this plate of baked beans on toast.” That’s right children, the hidden metabolic processes. I think my nine-year-old self probably tuned out at this point, which probably saved me a good 16 years of enjoying my baked beans on toast.
Leaving one plate aside, to remind us what the baked beans on toast looked like before starting the experiment, Suzy recreates the chewing of the mouth, first cutting and then mashing one plate of beans to into a vomit-inducing pile of what looks like regurgitated raw pork mince.
“Down the hatch!” Suz exclaims, shovelling spoonfuls of the mincey goop into the beer bong she pretends is an oesophagus. She then adds saliva (water, thankfully) and filters the mixture with all the finesse of a cooking show host.
“Voila!” she exclaims, holding the bowl of filtered mince proudly as though she’s just whipped up a bowl of fancy pudding. I throw up a little bit in my mouth.
With a dash of stomach acid (vinegar) and a stick blender, it’s time to grind the contents of the stomach bowl into a what Suz aptly describes as “bean gunge.”
After a transitionary baked bean wipe that would make George Lucas weep (see above), Suz compares the “digested” gunge to the original plate of baked beans on toast. She gives the before and after plates a quick whiff, during which I can actually smell the putrid slop in my nostrils. Along comes another bean wipe… it’s intestine time.
This is where the fun begins and my gag reflex goes into overdrive. Suz runs through a bit of basic intestinal science before shit (literally) gets real.
Suzy manages to says the words “rectum”, “anus” and “bottom”, all within the space of four seconds, before cutting a hole in the large intestine (a pair of old pantyhose) filled with bean gunge, and slowly, tenderly squeezing out what can only be described as a Giant Bean Poo. “Just like this,” she says, proudly, hands covered in the mincey poo gunge.
Gasps of horror and disgust come from behind me, as the office gathers to watch the defecation drama unfolding on my screen.
“It looks like she’s icing a cake.”
I will never eat again.
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