The last time I had a strip of bacon was August 13, the day before I left for college for my last year there. It was then that my parents could afford to let me have a strip. I can't remember when the bacon famine began, but it was hitting everyone hard. My entire family sat on the floor around a cardboard box that was all we had, once we sold the table, chairs, silverware, and microwave to buy the single pigslice. The single fluorescent light swung gently above use, casting its glow, which the strip on the box reflected with effulgence. To our family, this strip of bacon was passed down from the Father, brought down on the wings of angels, giving a chorus of praise and worship to this almighty fragment of swine.
Indeed, it was a glorious piece of bacon: the red parts seemed rigid enough to be crunchy, the pale slivers cutting a path through the valleys of gracious, rolling red. The entire swine slice glistened under the fluorescent light, adding another layer of holiness to the awe-inspiring cut.
The next door neighbors were bound in the living room; after hearing of our acquisition of the package, they attempted to steal it. However, my father put a stop to that before it began, hanging their patriarch out front. Horrid place we live in where one must murder to keep this treasure.
After fortifying the front entrance, we turned from the stalkers on the road. The bacon strip called to me, and I knew it was time. The family looking on, I picked up the slice, broke off a piece, and put it in my mouth. The flavor hit me immediately, dizzying me. The pure elation of flavors in my mouth paralyzed me, with the rest of my strip in hand.
The slice took a half hour for me to eat fully. Once I ate it, my father went out front with a shotgun, firing off a single shot. I remember back late in the year 2012, when this epidemic was simply a “shortage”, a curiosity, a farming mishap. Nobody expected the pigs were dying, but they were. In order to damage their masters, and thus lessen the damage done to them, they committed suicide en masse. This led to the “Great Bacon Race of '13”, where people rushed to Texas to grab the bacon before it became scarce. After the bacon baked away, the economy collapsed, hope vacant from the capitalist system. Now, in the fifth year of the Bacon Crisis, synthetic bacon is top dollar, and the true bacon piece I ate legally doesn't exist.
Please, 2012. Don't let this happen. This is just the beginning. We must unite, for our lives and livelihoods! We need to save our bacon, both literally and in a figurative sense! We must continue eating, keeping the pigs away from cliffs or sharp objects. The future is in us. The future is in bacon. The future is now.
Paid for by the Organization to Save Our Bacon.