I have been declared Emperor of the World. Let us not waste time explaining why or how; let’s all simply accept the fact that we are better off, as a result; hence, my next decree:
Emperor’s Decree No. 3X-45/17: Alright. Seriously: enough with the bacon. Turkeys-wrapped in bacon; pork chops wrapped in bacon; bacon ice cream; bacon pies; bacon-wrapped bacon over bacon salad with bacon vinaigrette. Bacon T-shirts; Facebook posts celebrating the glories of bacon. Chocolate-covered bacon; sexy women dressed in bacon thongs. Bacon coffee? Woven bacon goblets? Bacon cereal? It’s only a matter of time before bacon-porn starts up. Sweet Jesu, people! It’s yummy. The Emperor gets it. But it’s no tastier than it was ten years ago. The Emperor wants loyal subjects, not trend-gobblers. (I’m seriously considering banning all Kevin Bacon films, just for good measure.) I blame Emeril Legasse for introducing the moronic culture of cheering enthusiastically for seasonings: GAAAAHLIC!! WOO-HOO!! Cripes, how desperate can we be for fun? BACON! YIPPEE!! Insufferable.
The Punishment: Violators (anyone who devours bacon in any way but in strips, on a plate, next to a few sunny-side eggs) will be put in a 5-by-5 cell, deep in the Imperial Dungeons, with three recently-bacon-whipped wild boars who will exact revenge for their fallen brethren in a most invasive way.
Now, go forth and obey.
The Emperor will grace the world with a new decree each Tuesday morning.
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