(Bazooka Joe is stirring a pot on a stove.)
Buddhist Monk: Hi, Bazooka Joe, what’s for breakfast?
Bazooka Joe: Hundreds of things.
Buddhist Monk: What are they?
Bazooka Joe: Beans.
Buddhist Monk: Then it is one thing.
(Bazooka Joe is frantically wrapping duct tape around a fuel conduit.)
Flight Surgeon: Hi, Cosmonaut Bazooka Joe, what’s for breakfast?
Bazooka Joe: Stand back. We are rapidly losing pressure in the main catalyst valve.
Flight Surgeon: Oh, in that case I know what’s for breakfast.
Bazooka Joe: What’s that?
Flight Surgeon: Duct tape.
(Bazooka Joe is preparing the holy host.)
Cardinal: Hi, Father Bazooka Joe, what’s for breakfast?
Bazooka Joe: Two things.
Cardinal: What are they?
Bazooka Joe: The body and the blood of Christ.
Cardinal: Awww, we had that for breakfast last Sunday.
(Bazooka Joe is marching in a harvest-parade of 100,000 workers and peasants in spontaneous celebration of the visionary leadership of Kim Jong Il.)
Cadre: Hi, Comrade Bazooka Joe, what’s for breakfast?
Bazooka Joe: Two things.
Cadre: What are they?
Bazooka Joe: One of them is a heartfelt recital of the address our Dear Leader made last week to the 9th district union of tractor engineers.
Cadre: What’s the second thing?
Bazooka Joe: A bean.
(Bazooka Joe is watching movers carting off leased computer equipment from his vaulted-ceiling studio/office.)
Venture capitalist: Hi, failed dot-com CEO Bazooka Joe, what’s for breakfast?
Bazooka Joe: Nothing. Now that the e-business model has been revealed as a horrible delusion we can’t even afford to buy a can of beans.
Venture capitalist: Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be seeing lots of beans in your next job.
Bazooka Joe: Why’s that?
Venture capitalist: Because you’ll be working at Starbucks.
Mir Space Station
(Bazooka Joe is sitting at a cafe signing a manifesto.)
Situationalist: Hi, Bazooka Joe, what’s for breakfast?
Bazooka Joe: The text of this comic, like all texts, has no meaning except in reference to itself.
Situationalist: Yes, but what’s for breakfast?
Bazooka Joe: Bubble gum?
(Bazooka Joe is lying in the outback with X’s over his eyes beside a talking dingo.)
Bushwacker: Hiya, bloke, Bazooka Joe doesn’t look so good. What did he have for breakfast?
Bazooka Joe’s talking dingo: He had hundreds of things.
Bushwacker: What were they?
Bazooka Joe’s talking dingo: Beers.
Left bank, 1968.
(Bazooka Joe is sitting on an ice floe in the noon darkness beside a can of beans. He has the barrel of a gun in his mouth.)
Pale acquaintance: Hi, Bazooka Joe, what’s for breakfast?
Bazooka Joe: Despair. There is no reason to go on living in this world of cruelty and eternal darkness.
Pale acquaintance: In that case, can I have your beans?