Bacon Epipheny

Yesterday I had a Bacon Epipheny. It went something like this:
I like bacon.

Okay, maybe there was a bit more to it then that. The particular bacon in question happened to be Hormel "Range Brand" thick-sliced. Always buy thick-sliced bacon, it let's you crisp the edges while leaving more meat flavor in the center. Anyway, I'd had this brand of bacon before and while it's good, it had never been quite so exquisite as this one particular slab of bacon.

I'm almost like a smoker when it comes to bacon. People tell me eating like I do will clog my arteries and kill me, and I just don't care. If food this good gums into my heart and stays there, I'm honored. At least I know it'll be with me forever.

I knew there was something special about this bacon as soon as I pulled a strip out of the package. It felt spongey pinched between my fingers, like a thin steak, and had well-defined marbling. The moment the slices hit the frying pan they bloated, expanding into wide oars that barely fit in the skillet. It was a truck stop gourmet's challenge to get an good, even fry on these ping-pong paddles of bacon, but it was worth it.

This was bacon the likes of which may never again be tasted by mortal lips. It was so good that if someone had told me this bacon had been made from human flesh, I'd have run down to the store to get more before the makers got arrested. If they were out of stock I'd be in the middle of the supermarket yelling "Hey! Anybody know where I can get some of that people-bacon? Anybody? It's made from people!"

So, yeah, that's about it.
I like bacon.