Doggy fat
This still makes me gag.

A few years ago me and a few acquaintances were lazing about my mates mum and dad's living room watching some Sunday morning gash TV when said mates father decides to make us all a lovely cooked breakfast.

This wasn't unusual.

Our Saturday nights were spent swallowing pills in hot grubby techno clubs and then heading to young Andrews parents house where his dad would not only let us puff the night away he would also let us delve into his own personal stash.

So anyway, on this Sunday morning we are all still pretty stoned and the smell of sausage and bacon was getting everyone in the mood for a hearty feast and indeed that's exactly what it turned out to be...

except for one piece of bacon.

To call what was clinging to this withered piece of meat 'fat' would be doing it a massive injustice. It was an absolute slab of tortured gristle that was probably cut from a pig borne of Satan. There was much stoned hilarity at the sheer absurdity of how manky this rasher of pork was. So instead of all getting up, going to the kitchen to wash our plates.. we do what any other lazy Sunday post clubbers would do.

Put all the leftovers on one plate and give it to the dog..

Although we were starving there was still a fair selection of savoury bites left for the mutt to gorge itself on. At this point I can't stress strongly enough that this dog would eat anything.. plastic, rubber, grit.. it wasn't fussy. It seemed though that even the dog was wary of the rotting trotter and it demolished everything in sight before finally turning it's attention to it's formidable pray. By now the interest in the room was firmly fixed on old Arnie as he proceeded to wrap his lips around the extremity and start to chew.. and chew.. and chew.. and chew for what seemed like a good solid 5 minutes. Eventually and with a massive cough Arnie spat the pork tumour back onto the plate. He was defeated and we were in hysterics.

This brings us to Marc. I'll call him this because not only is it his name, he also is a big reader of this board.. anyway.. after the dog fuelled laughter had died down the conversation quickly turned to 'How much money would it take for you to put that thing in your mouth'. Many figures were banded about until Marc.. with a deadly serious face says.. 'I'll take a fiver off each of you'. Now I think there may have been 5 of us at this point so in his terms he stood to make a fortune. Still thinking this was a joke we all whipped out £5 each and waited for him to say 'Bugger off.. nae chance'..

What happened next will stay with me till my dying day.

Marc saunters over to the plate. Goosebumps appear on my arms.. surely not.. he lifts it from the plate and dangles it inches from his mouth like a bird feeding a worm to it's chicks. I'm still fairly convinced that he is going to throw it at one of us.. but no. It in goes. Right into his mouth. Does he spit it right back out ? No. Marc decides to chew on it for a bit.. All I can think is 'Please spit that out, please'. Instead Marc swallows the entire thing. In one long gulp.

As I finish typing this story I swear I can feel that lumpen fat sliding down my throat.

First post at last..

Length ? Longer than the dog could chew for.
(I fear satan, Sat 23 Jun 2007, 3:45, Reply)