Trevor

That dude just dumped a gallon of vagina repellant all over himself.

Dude looks exhausted. Wake up!

Ugh. Wonderful. I was going to go buy a 120gb slim in an hour when I get off of work. Now I'll have to wait and see what this is all about.

My best bacon experience? *takes long draw off of impractically large cigar* *stares off into the distance*

It was a hot, wet night in 'nam. Year? I don't even know anymore, son. They all blur together. Half of my platoon was asleep, though shrouded in thunderous gunfire from just a few miles north. I was doodling on my Etch-A-Sketch. Exhausted, sure, but unwilling to drift with Charlie's so close to camp. Suddenly, a noise.

It was Seth. One of my men. He was whimpering in his sleep. I walked over to him.

"Seth. Seth! It's just a dream." I said as I tried to shake him awake. The boys were having a tough time with the looming war. The younger ones especially. Seth slowly opened his tear-stained eyes.

"Sir. I miss my mother, sir. I can't handle this." He was sobbing now.

"Buckle in, kid." I said. "It's a long road from here." It was tough to stay strong for the men, but sometimes that's all that's holding them together. "Get some rest and we'll move out in the morning. That's an order." I barked.

"Sir."

As I sat down to finish my sketch, I heard something else. It was thunder. Something was off. The skies were dark red, marbled with puffy white clouds. It was nearing two o'clock in the morning. The sun had already dipped below the horizon. Alarmed, I glanced over at my platoon. All of them were sitting upright and gaping at the oddity in the sky.

"Sir! Do you smell that?" Martin squeaked.

Smell 'that?' We've been in the jungle for almost six months and I've yet to smell anything but sweat and mud. But I smelled it. It was something... special. Something... organic.

The boys were restless and frightened now. They all paced nervously and pointed at the sky.

"I don't know what the hell it is, boys, but it smells... delicious." I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew this smell. As the heavens grew angrier, the smell became ever more apparent. Deep reds and whites painted the landscape from above.

"Sir... I think it's..." Sam started.

Just then, it started raining. Everyone was silent. And then something incredible happened.

I reached out my hand to feel the rain. Upon my open palm plopped a piece of thick, robust, chewy bacon. Was I dreaming? Were the horrors of war getting to me, too? The men all stared at me in disbelief. I could think of nothing to say. Nothing to express.

I brought the bacon up to my mouth and began to chew. It was like meeting Chuck Norris. Like fist bumping the Old Spice man. The more I tasted, the more I loved.

The men were gazing at me, waiting for a verdict.

"Eat up, gentlemen. We're home."

The shouts of joy drowned out the roaring of the thunder. It was raining bacon. Raining. Bacon.

To this very day, I have yet to taste a slice of pork more tender and flavorful. Bacon is, as they say, heaven.

Most spies with iPod touches these days use them for surfing mobile pornography websites whilst lying in wait for their suspect's next move. I thought this was common knowledge? Pfft!

Gears of War 2: Palin's Playground.