Last Supper

I recently found out, mostly through a process of trial and error, that the last meal I ate before having my heart attack was generic "beef pasta" flavor hamburger helper. Aint that the beans? You always think your final meal will be something memorable - Beef Wellington served in Sigourney Weaver's limousine, perhaps - and instead it turns out to a box of two-for-a-dollar hamburger helper scarfed down in front of the TV, and not even the name brand, just the generic store brand.

It's like going in front of the firing squad and finding that your last cigarette was a Merit, one of those non-cigarette things that smells like burning socks. Come on, guys, make it a Marlboro 100 and snap the filter off, would you? I can take it.