"I have something for you," my friend texted me this morning. "Can you come to my office in 5?"
"Sure," I replied. "Just give me the signal."
When I arrived in her office, she handed me a container that looked like your average Chinese takeout box. I was momentarily excited because, as a fat man, I love Chinese food. I was a little disheartened when she told me it wasn't a quart of fried rice, but what are you gonna do? Instead, the box contained this:
No, your eyes do not deceive you. That is bacon-flavored candy, appropriately called Bacon Candy. She laughed and clapped with glee upon seeing my reaction, which could best be described as elation. Two of my favorite things combined - sweet, delicious, sugary, fattening candy and salty, meaty, fattening bacon! Twas a dream come true!
Returning to my desk, I shared the gift proudly with my coworker, informing him I would embark upon the Bacon Candy experience in short order. But then the logical part of my brain kicked in. What if Bacon Candy was terrible? That couldn't be, could it? Bacon and candy go together like peanut butter and jelly, chocolate and caramel, alcohol and fat girls! God would never let that happen, for surely this was a gift from the heavens! I am of the opinion that bacon makes everything better. There was no way Bacon Candy could disappoint!
With some trepidation, I unwrapped the first of twelve individually wrapped, unassuming pieces. They looked harmless enough, almost like a peppermint candy cane or those candies that have been stuck to the inside of grandma's candy bowl for an indeterminate amount of time and have coalesced into one giant sticky mess that lifts the bowl up with it when you try to grab one. Popping it into my mouth, my beautiful dream turned into a horrible nightmare.
Bacon Candy is a misleading name for this product, because both words sound like something you would want to eat. Despite the tin's claim of "Superior Bacon Flavor!" that was "Smoky!", "Sweet!", "Tasty!", and "Meaty!", Bacon Candy exhibited none of these traits. After tasting it, I no longer believe in God.
My coworkers laughed at my pain as I struggled to keep the atrocity in my mouth for more than ten seconds before finally relenting and spitting it into my garbage can and downing a bottle of water in almost as many seconds in the hopes it would wash the vile taste out - a hope I quickly discovered was false. Twenty minutes later and after eating a peppermint candy cane I CAN STILL TASTE IT! I can even taste it in my NOSE when I breathe. It's sort of like that horribly bitter taste that remains in your mouth after drinking coffee, but far, far worse. I'm not sure how best to describe it, for there are no words in our language or any other that could accurately relay the horror. It's like the Cthulhu of candies - unspeakably grotesque and evil beyond imaginging. Lovecraft, on his best day, could not have written a story as frightful as my experience with Bacon Candy.
This is the most awful thing I've ever put into my mouth, and I've tried vegitarian bacon. I didn't think it could get much worse than those flat strips of soy "painted" an odd reddish-purple hue in a misguided attempt to resemble real meat. Vegitarian bacon is what I imagine it must be like to eat construction paper if you sprinkled salt on it. It was so gross it actually stuck to the plate it was cooked on and had to be scraped off just to take a bite, yet somehow - almost inconceivably - Bacon Candy is worse.
I can only conclude that my friend hates me and was trying to kill me.
