Two Central Office administrators,
LeBeaver and Butthead Raygun,
had been lost in the desert for weeks
and were at  death's door. As they stumbled on,
 hoping for salvation in the form of an oasis,
they suddenly spied through the heat and haze,
a tree, off in the distance.
As they got closer, it appeared that the tree was draped with slabs
upon slabs of bacon. There was smoked bacon, crispy  bacon,
juicy nearly-raw bacon, bacon of all sorts.


"Hey, LeBeaver," cried Dr. Raygun,
"It's a bacon tree! We are saved!"

  


"You're right, Butthead!" said  LeBeaver running
 up to the tree, salivating at the prospect of food.
When he got to within five feet of the tree,
 the sound of machine gun fire erupted and down he
went ducking a hail of bullets.

   Dr. Raygun quickly dropped down on the sand and called out,
"LeBeaver!   LeBeaver! "What's going on?"

 LeBeaver called out, "Run, Butthead, run!"
"It's not a bacon tree."
"It's a ham bush."