He has managed to find an antique can of beer—with a pull-tab!—and he's halfway to oblivion, having arrived at the waystation known as Overconfident. With the stars of senselessness popping all around him, he flashes the thumbs-up of the self-appointed expert.
"Thash right, buddy. What we're gonna do is, is… I'm gonna jam myself down onto this here beer, and... Hey, gar-son! Howzabout a little nother canny canny for the Bird Beer?"Does he know what he's in for? Does he truly know what he agreed to?
Oh, he knows.
The packaging he appears on couldn't be more explicit.
Once he's drunk himself to death, he'll be set upon a final can of beer. This will be the chariot that races him, crisp and redeemed, to the Promised Land.
Take her easy, Beer Bird. Godspeed.
"Let th' other birds peck peck peck and get their neck wrung. Sucker's game is what that is! Yours truly's got other ideas. Blaze of glory! Way I'm gonna go out. Settin' on a beer can. Beer can's my rocket, am I right?"