The Bacon Fiend

Reads: 547  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Bacon, the best food group to exists? Some would kill in the name of bacon.

Submitted: September 28, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 28, 2015

A A A

A A A


It was about the middle of October, the clouds were dark and mean looking, hanging low over the English town somewhere just outside the midlands city of Birmingham.

A chance encounter a few days ago between 2 people who had been friends since junior school, but had not seen each other for a couple years, saw them meet up the following weekend at the local greasy spoon.

Their names were Steve and Ben, two young men in their early 30’s. Steve was married and expecting his first child any day now. Ben, being a bit of a jack the lad, was not married and currently between relationships, as he would put it.

The café was not particularly busy for an early Saturday morning. The owner put it down to the rain clouds that looked to depart with there content any minute now.

Ben picked up the first quarter of a neatly made bacon sandwich. “Mmm, is there anything better than a well prepared bacon sandwich?”

Steve wrinkled his nose at the remark, clearly he was not in agreement with Ben.

“I’d prefer a sausage sarnie.” And as if to underline the statement, he took a bite of his own sandwich.

“Really? A sausage pales in comparison.” Ben said.

“A sausage is far more enticing than a coarse, salty streak of fatty bacon.”

“Maybe, but you don’t get the same amazing smoked smell from a sausage.”

Steve wiped away bit of ketchup that had squirted out the side of his sandwich and smeared up his cheek. “But you can get herbed sausages that smell amazing when you cook them.”

Ben shook his head. “You don’t need that crap with bacon; it’s just as amazing as is.”

“Yeah, but you got all that fat you need to cut off and when you do you’re left with next to nothing.”

“You don’t cut the fat off!” Ben said, mortified at Steve’s remark.

One of the cafe’s workers came up to the table to see if everything was to everyone’s satisfaction.

“All going well gentlemen?” The woman asked with a wide smile.

“No,” Ben said. “This heathen hates bacon.”

The woman looked awkwardly between Ben and Steve. Steve reached over and fingered one of Ben’s sandwiches and pulled out a dark red slice.

“Just look at this.” He said waving the slice in Ben’s face. “It’s so hard you could kill someone with it.”

Ben snatched the slice out of Steve’s hand. “Oh really?” He said and drew the slice across Steve’s throat.

At first the blood oozed, then gushed and eventually squirted in great gouts in the waitress’ face as his throat was gashed open. The waitress screamed before collapsing to the floor and Steve face planted the table, pale and dead.

“Oh, well maybe you’re right there.” Ben said.


© Copyright 2020 Carl Worgan. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments: