“Uh...” the cashier hesitated as Tilda came down the conveyor belt, holding her knees up to avoid the gum rack.
“I’m a can of beans,” Tilda said.
“I don’t... that’s not safe, is it?”
“What’s safe matter to a can of beans? Scan me.”
“You’re not supposed to point the beam at your eyes...”
“Scan me! I am a can of beans! I will nourish my family! I’ll keep for years! Don’t eat me if I am dented! Scan me, you addled twit! Scan me now! I’m beans!”
The cashier consulted the screen. “Actually, you’re sugar-free caramels. On clearance.”