In the Garden of Eden stands an orchard where an infinite number of Apples hang from the trees. Each Apple is a universe of its own — a world parallel to all the others.

The one bitten by Adam and Eve became the Man Apple. It fell from the orchard and descended into our universe, while the rest remained untouched, still ripening in eternity.

From the fall of that single Apple, countless reflections and echoes were born — parallel universes suspended within the garden itself. There is a Rock Universe, a Shark Universe, a House Universe, a Knife Universe, a Grilled Chicken Universe, a Bacon Universe… and infinitely more. Every idea imagined, every thing discovered, invented, or created within the Man Universe gives rise to a new Apple hanging in the Garden of Eden.

This is the story of the Bacon Universe.

Chapter 1: Old Frontiers

Excitement, tension, and anxiety filled the air. Even the wind and the smoke seemed unsettled—one moment drifting one way, the next swirling back, restless and alive. It was as if the very air itself carried a secret. The old expression “something is in the air” had never felt so literal.

Just the day before, the oldest and wisest of the Mighty Baconites, the Smoke Wizard had emerged from their seasonal council gathering with a historic announcement: the Bacon Apple was going on an exploratory mission.

This had never happened before. Other apples had embarked on journeys over the ages, but never the Bacon Apple. The Double Time Apple was the most renowned, having traveled through time on multiple occasions. The Sock Apple was forever wandering, searching for its missing pair. And then there was the Man Apple—the only apple ever bitten in the Garden of Eden, who had left seasons ago out of shame. It was a blemish on perfection, a scar in creation itself. The Mighty Council spoke of the Man Apple again that day, declaring that perhaps the Bacon Apple might find it—and finally heal the only wrong in existence. The Bacon Apple’s mission, they proclaimed, was to restore the balance of being.

Among the council members, Soft Hazel, a young and lower-ranked Baconite, was the most elated. This was their first council gathering, and by a twist of beginner’s luck—or perhaps destiny—they had sensed the presence of another Apple nearby. As it turned out, it was none other than the Double Time Apple, which had swung close to the Bacon Apple just as the council was emerging from their smoke trance.

Apples in the Garden rarely moved, let alone swung. It was an omen, and Soft Hazel was the first to smell it—an event that would forever mark their name in the smoky scrolls of the Baconites.

When the council realized what had happened, they began to chant the ancient Bacon Song, their voices blending with the shifting winds, drawing them back into a deep, spiraling trance.

And when they awoke, the message was clear.
It was Time.

Chapter 2: Ticket, Anyone?

The Baconites had never ventured beyond the Garden of Eden. They knew nothing outside their own aroma and crispness. Their mission to Earth was thrilling—but also nerve-wracking. For the first time in their existence, their minds were preoccupied with something other than bacon.

They soon realized their only hope was to consult the Double Time Universe. The citizens there were travel experts; time travel was all they knew. But how could the Baconites reach them? What questions should they ask—and how? So many questions, so little bacon!

Bacon?

Of course—bacon was the answer. They would lure the Double Time Universe with the irresistible scent of sizzling bacon.

And so they got to work. They would need to build the largest oven ever conceived, to cook the greatest quantity of bacon and release a smoke so immense that its aroma might drift beyond their world into the nearby Double Time Universe. 

All the citizens of the Bacon Universe mobilized to create this spectacular smoke. The fire Baconites—known as the Wood Chippers—ventured into the forests to chop every tree they could find. The Bacon Smiths, master builders of the oven, began digging a colossal pit on the far side of the universe. The plan was to connect two openings from opposite ends of their world, forming a vast tunnel through which mighty winds would roar and ignite the greatest fire ever known.

They dug and dug until the tunnel was complete. From the stones they unearthed, they forged the largest griddle ever made. Meanwhile, the Wood Chippers packed the tunnel with all the wood known to Baconkind. Then they waited—seventeen long seasons—to gather enough raw bacon. Every Saturday from 11:00 AM to 1:00 PM, raw bacon rained from the skies. Usually, they cooked it immediately, but this time they simply piled the slabs high, layer upon layer.

When the day finally came, the Baconites formed an assembly line, laying strips of raw bacon across the rock griddle. They lit the fire at one end of the tunnel and summoned the wind to blow.

Three physical forces ruled their universe: wind, smoke, and aroma. Smoke and aroma were effects—but wind was causality itself, the one element they could not control. So how did they summon it? 

Through the power of intention.

The Baconites were famous across all universes for their devotion. Their sole purpose was to cook bacon, inhale its sacred aroma, and dance with the smoke. If any beings in existence could will something into reality, it was them. This time, they channeled all that devotion into calling the wind—to create the ultimate smoke signal.

But they had already done more than summon it; they had built a vast tunnel that invited the wind in. The moment the tunnel opened, the wind rushed through with unstoppable force. The Bacon Universe—glorious, fragile, and flammable—caught fire. Layers of crispy bacon ignited, and the roaring blaze hurled smoke and aroma across every parallel universe in existence.

Their plan had been to alert the Double Time Universe—but they went far beyond that.

Within moments, Double Time swung from its cosmic tree, drawing near. The smoke intensified, for in Double Time, everything doubled. Every gust, every curl of smoke, every flicker of flame came with a twin, trailing a heartbeat behind. In no time—and double time—the smoke doubled.

The Grand Timekeeper of Double Time, the ancient Grandfather Clock, bellowed across the dimensions, demanding that the Baconites extinguish the fire. The Baconites were embarrassed, but the blaze was far beyond control.

The Grandfather Clock leapt through time and appeared before the gathered Baconites. Extending a great bronze hand, it thundered:

“Tick. Tock.”

The Baconites stood frozen, bewildered. Only Soft Hazel seemed to understand. Rising through the smoke, they proclaimed,
“Tickets! Everyone needs tickets to travel between universes.”

Chapter 3: The Light

Unlike the kind of travel familiar to us Earthlings, when a universe travels, there is no packing involved — everything goes.

The Baconites wondered if they needed the Double Time Universe as a vessel to cross through time and space to reach our earthly realm. But a question quickly arose: how does one board a universe? Do they get a piggyback ride? Imagine one universe perched on another’s back! Or do they somehow enter the Double Time Universe from within? Are they pulled by a celestial chain? And what is this ticket they need in order to travel? So many questions, so few bubbles in the wind.

The Grand Baconite Might — the Wizard of Smoke — called another council meeting to discuss the matter at hand. The Baconite Mights are the highest order in the Bacon Universe, the sacred cooks of bacon itself. The word Might carries a double meaning: it speaks of their mightiness, but also of uncertainty — for they might, or might not, cook the perfect bacon.

In truth, no perfect bacon has ever been cooked. They come close, but perfection belongs only to the afterlife. Each Baconite Might has their own theory and practice for achieving it — the type of wood, its age, the oven’s design, the fire’s temperament, and above all, the dance of wind and smoke. The Wizard of Smoke earned their title as the one who can best command the flow of smoke through ever-changing winds.

Council meetings are always held in the Ever-Cooking Dome — a wondrous structure that is part tipi, part tent, part dome. Its surface is as crooked and curling as cooked bacon itself, for like every structure in the Bacon Universe, it is made entirely of bacon. This particular dome, however, is always cooking. Within it, they have devised a magical oven that spans the entire structure, with flames moving freely inside and out, licking the walls and dancing with every whisper of breeze.

That breeze — subtle, fragrant, and alive — is counted among the seventeen wonders of the Bacon Universe. It is said to draw its essence from the Bacon Spirits themselves, known to all as the Mighty Fart.

The Baconite Mights entered the Dome and sat in the order of the wind.

In the Bacon Universe, class is not fixed but seasonal. Each Bacon Clan is bound to a particular wind — its direction, temperament, and rhythm. As the wind shifts, so too does the hierarchy. The highest order at any given moment belongs to the clan whose essence most closely matches the spirit of the wind of the time.

During council, this means constant motion. The Baconite Mights rise, shuffle, and resettle again and again as the breeze outside changes course. They always pray for stillness, hoping for a moment of calm, but such serenity has never been known to last in the Bacon Universe.

The Wizard of Smoke called the meeting to order and invited Soft Hazel to speak.

Soft Hazel, a relatively young Baconite Might, stood up bewildered and unprepared. Their nerves sizzled like bacon in sunlight. They opened their mouth, but no greeting came — only a strange, trembling sound. Then another. And another. Before anyone could understand what was happening, Soft Hazel began speaking in tongue.

They spoke for seventeen hours straight. Outside, the wind grew restless. Inside, the Mights shifted positions every few seconds, following the wild patterns of the air. Then, as if summoned by the chant itself, the Dome began to levitate.

The wind roared. The Mights moved faster, circling in a storm of motion and uncertainty. Soon, all of them began speaking in tongues, their voices merging into a single, celestial hymn. The chant swelled and rose, until a thunderous sound shook the air — the toll of the Grandfather Clock.

Its echo declared that their tickets were ready for collection at the Light Well — a newly formed well that spewed gumballs made of pure light.

Soft Hazel approached the Light Well, retrieved a glowing gumball, and placed it in their mouth. Baconites had never eaten anything before. In their world, bacon was sacred — too holy to consume. They survived instead on aroma and trance.

After a few moments of chewing, Soft Hazel removed the gumball and pressed it flat between their palms. The Grandfather Clock extended its hour hand; Soft Hazel extended their seventh arm. Their fingers never touched, but a thread of light stretched between them, completing the connection.

The “ticket” was granted.

Soft Hazel rose from the ground, floating gracefully as the wind lifted them into the air. The other Mights, and indeed every Baconite in the universe, watched in reverent awe.

Only then did they understand how they would travel through time itself — not by vessel, nor by machine, but by levitating in surrender to the sacred wind.

Chapter 1: The journey

One by one, the Baconites approached the Light Well. Each placed a gumball in their mouth, tasted the light, and connected with time. Before no time, the entire Bacon Universe was floating above itself, dancing in the cosmic wind.

While the Baconites prepared for their journey to Earth—the realm of the Man Apple — the Double Time Apple had already traveled through every chapter of the book, many times over, and double that again. The Double Time Universe was the only one to discover that all existence was a book of infinite chapters, each revealing the secrets of being and not-being. As one page turned, the rest of the book sank into darkness. Where the page was dark, there was no time, no space, no existence — only nothingness.

When the Bacon Universe began to float, the Double Time Universe turned a page, placed the Bacon Universe upon it, and then closed the book — sealing away time, space, and existence within its fold.

Darkness came upon existence for eternity until a pig started dreaming of bacon, a man started dreaming of time and the time started dreaming of the book.  At that exact moment of all knowing dreams, the book opened and the bacon wrapped apple universe landed on earth.

Chapter 4: The Awakening of Smell

When the book opened, the first thing that struck the citizens of the Bacon Universe was the overwhelming aroma of everything. Until that moment, their entire existence had known only the scent of bacon — raw, cooking, cooked, crisp, and burnt. Their only active sense was smell, channeled through their pig-like noses and countless nostrils. They possessed eyes and ears, but those were ornamental—beautifully useless. The Baconites could not see, nor hear, nor taste. Their sense of touch was strong, though, born from centuries of tending fires, turning strips, and mastering the craft of bacon.

The smell of earth was so powerful that they all fainted at once. They fell into a deep, collective dream, imagining strange new sensations — visions of Manly things that drifted in through unconscious scent. Their bacon-centric brains surged, overwhelmed by the flood of new aromas.

The only previous trauma they had ever known was one Saturday when raw bacon failed to fall from the skies. That day, fear and sadness wrapped them and they paced endlessly, feeling useless, anxious, and lost. By Sunday, they sank into despair, believing the end of their world had come. In truth though, it was nothing more than a minor disruption: a strike by the intra-universe transport guild in the Shipping Universe. Bacon delivery had simply been delayed. But this new event—this meeting with Earth—was different. It was catastrophic.

The Bacon-Wrapped Apple lay motionless for seven days. A few Earthlings passed by, mistaking it for a piece of modern art, oblivious to the crisis within. Only the Double Time Universe, and within it, the Smoke Wizard, understood the gravity of the situation. The Wizard, feeling responsible, traveled through time and double time, consulting every clock and watch in existence. They even entered the Book itself, searching for precedent—but none existed. No universe had ever directly encountered the Man Universe before. One single contact, and an entire cosmos had fallen into coma.

As the clocks and watches gathered around the Bacon-Wrapped Apple from up above, they began to slow. Their ticking softened into silence. Time itself Killed Time. And in that stillness, a surprising thing happened.  Spiders began to appear—first a few, then hundreds, then thousands—crawling toward the Apple. They spun webs across its many rings, layer upon layer, until a vast, shimmering world wide web enveloped the whole structure.

The citizens of Double Time watched in awe. They knew the Baconites had once evolved from spiders and sensed that this was not destruction but healing. The spiders wove until their web covered everything—every smell, every sound, every forgotten second.

And then, the elements awakened.  A gusty wind swept through, scattering scent. Rain followed, cleansing all. Sunlight poured down, dissolving memory. Cold descended, silencing everything. Fire blazed, transforming all that remained. Finally, the Earth embraced it all and held it still.

When time began ticking once more, the Baconites awoke. The trauma had passed. The world smelled new—empty, pure, and ready to begin again.

Chapter 5: The conversation thread 

Soon after awakening from their coma, the Baconites realized their first task was to find a way to communicate with the Earthlings. But before anything else, they owed a great debt to the Spider Kingdom, whose vast web of webs had triggered the elemental cleansing that saved them. The spiders’ intervention had summoned wind, rain, sunlight, cold, fire, and earth itself — all combining to purify the air of human scent. Of course, the smell would eventually return, but the Baconites’ sensitive nostrils now had time to adjust.

To express their gratitude, the Baconites decided to hold their first grand Bacon Fest in honor of the spiders. They brought out their finest china and their most elegant garments — all crafted from delicate shades of bacon — and, of course, their most precious bacon reserves for the feast. The spiders climbed the many rings of the Bacon Apple and took their places as honored guests. The Baconites, dressed in shimmering bacon attire, darted up and down the inner webs of the apple, serving their ancestral saviors with joy and reverence.

Laughter, song, and sizzling music filled the air — until suddenly, a ripple of curiosity spread across the crowd. Outside the Apple, a small creature was staring in, wide-eyed and amazed. The Baconites froze. They had never seen another being besides themselves and the spiders. They gathered at the edge of their universe, peering out at the stranger.

It had a nose. A real, magnificent, familiar nose. Though they had never met such a creature, something ancient stirred in their hearts — a recognition beyond time. The spiders, of course, knew it well: a Tamworth pig, known among homesteaders as the bacon pig.

What began as a celebration now became a holy convergence — a reunion of distant breeds, a cosmic family gathering across parallel universes. It was as if modern humans suddenly found themselves face to face with their Neanderthal ancestors.

The little pig looked shy but curious. One of the spiders suggested she might wish to join the festivities. The Baconites eagerly agreed. The spiders spun strong silk ropes, fastening them to the third ring of the Bacon Apple, and began to hoist the little pig upward. Baconites and spiders worked together, pulling in harmony, until the pig was halfway through the Apple’s ring—where she promptly got stuck. Her front half dangled joyfully inside the Bacon Universe, while her plump rear remained outside, wagging in the Man Universe.

But the little pig didn’t seem to mind. She didn’t crave the smell of sizzling bacon, but she delighted in the songs and rhythms, swaying her upper body with pure happiness.

The festival lasted seventeen days and nights. 

On the seventeenth day, a group of humanoids approached. The spiders, well aware of the human kind, vanished into nearby shadows. The pig, still wedged in place, didn’t understand the danger — nor could she move.

The humans drew near, speaking words the Baconites could not yet comprehend. But as they examined the little pig, something miraculous occurred: the Baconites heard a murmur. It was faint, distorted — but it was sound. Their first experience of hearing.

It turned out they could hear only the humans closest to the pig’s behind.

The spiders, hidden among the leaves, understood at once: the pig had become a living bridge between worlds — the Bacon Universe and the Man Universe.

The Baconites began to communicate by snapping their limbs together, producing intricate patterns of sound — rhythmic, percussive, melodic. The little pig heard these vibrations and, through the strange alchemy of evolution and time, translated them into words that the humans could understand.

And thus, the first communication bridge between universes was born — not through machines or magic, but through evolutionary memory and ancient kinship.

Chapter 6: The first dance

Gladys Puff, Soft Hazel’s oldest kin, was the first Baconite to spot the humans as they approached the Bacon Apple. Gladys Puff was the quiet type, tending fires all their adult life. They knew all the ins and outs of keeping a flame going, playing with the wind and the smoke all at once. Their specialty was creating smoke waves by pushing the breeze and the smoke in such a way that an air vacuum would cause the smoke to move in wave forms, resembling a stormy ocean.

Soft Hazel’s family was part of the Breeze Clan, experts in slow-cooking the bacon. Unlike the Gust Clan, who had to keep their heads down at all times because of the harsh winds, the Breeze Clan always kept their heads up when the wind came, enjoying the soft brush on their skin. That’s why Gladys Puff spotted the humans first.

The moment Gladys Puff sensed the humans, they rubbed their six arms in a specific fashion, alerting others of potential danger. The spiders had already disappeared, but the rest of the Baconites stopped moving all at once. They immediately stuffed bacon in their nostrils, trying to prevent the overwhelming scent of the humans from penetrating their delicate nervous systems.

Three humans were the first to discover the Bacon Apple Universe. The apple had landed in some woods in the northeastern United States, right in the middle of a strange music festival. The humans, dressed in costume, approached thinking the Apple Bacon Universe was part of the festival. When they came closer, all they could see were shiny creatures hanging from the rings of the apple—something between a spider, a pig with kitty eyes, with a unicorn horn on its head. The humans were under the influence of some mind altering, experimental medicinal substances, and as a result, their senses weren’t quite as sharp as usual.

The humans walked up and shoved their hands inside the apple, through the rings, wanting to touch the shiny Baconites. The Baconites used their spider arms to bounce around, avoiding the human touch. The humans, who as mentioned before were under the influence, found this wow-worthy and started philosophizing about the wonders of light as matter traveling through space and time. Of course, their hypothesis was correct — but it had nothing to do with the present situation.

The Baconites continued dancing around while the humans tried to catch them. It soon became a game of capture the flag — or capture the light. The humans were laughing and jumping up and down, philosophizing, and in their minds exploring the edges of the universe — which, of course, they were. This lasted for a while, and as they grew tired of trying to catch the Baconites, one of them shouted, “Wait—these things are made out of bacon!” They had been smelling bacon since they arrived, but hadn’t registered it until then. Their minds were blown. They stepped back a few paces and, disappointed, attributed the cosmic encounter to a phenomenon called the munchies. They sat back with their faces in their hands, wondering about the meaning of life.

The Baconites, feeling a little sad, thought they were responsible for the misunderstanding. They huddled together to figure out their next course of action. As they discussed the matter at hand, Soft Hazel and Gladys Puff approached the little piggy and started snapping their arms, making a sound that only the pig could understand and translate. The little piggy wiggled and let out a small fart, not realizing that this magic sound would mean something extraordinary to the humans. The little fart, caused by the Baconites snapping their arms, came out the other end as a word the humans could understand—and that word was “Bull.”

The first ever word transmitted between two parallel universes was Bull. The humans slowly raised their heads and looked at each other in wonder.
“Did you hear that?” one asked.
“Yes, I heard ‘Bull,’” said another.
The third nodded. “I heard it too.”

Then they all jumped up and, in perfect harmony, shouted one word together:
“Sheeeeeettttt.”

Chapter 7: Gone with the wind

The Bacon Mights, the wise council of the Bacon Universe, had been caught off guard. They hadn’t even begun discussing the humans when, all of a sudden, a few members of the Breeze Clan forced their many hands into a potentially dangerous situation. An emergency council meeting was called, summoning Soft Hazel and Gladys Puff to answer for their actions.

Yet, this too was cause for celebration—for in the Bacon Universe, sin is part of daily life. They regard sin as the highest vessel for growth. The first encounter with humans was, by all measures, a monumental event in their brief intra-universal history. But instead of waiting for the council’s decree, Soft Hazel and Gladys Puff had acted on their own, risking great suffering for the citizens of the Bacon Universe.

“We celebrate sin and suffering,” declared Mighty Mousse, the master bacon cook whose heavenly aroma could melt in your mouth—if only they ate. “We have much to celebrate today, as a few of our curious citizens have placed us in grave danger.”

Soft Hazel and Gladys Puff stood up and began the backpack dance, making comical noises through their nostrils. Imagine a backpack dance where the arms swing front and back like flossing—but with six arms instead of two. It was quite a sight. Soon, the entire population of the Bacon Universe joined in, their many limbs tangling in a chaotic, hilarious knot. If only the humans had stayed to watch, instead of running off in search of real munchies.

They danced until exhaustion set in. Then the Grandmaster—the Smoke Wizard—rose, snapping their arms together to call the meeting to order. “What have we learned from this?” they asked.

The most studious of all Baconites, named Two-Plus-Twosy, stood and spoke:
“We are on new frontiers. If we wish to succeed, we must take brave measures. Soft Hazel and Gladys Puff were the bravest among us, risking their lives to move our cause forward. We must be cautious, yes—but we have learned that to carve one’s own trail, to go where no Baconite has gone before, is the way to enlightenment. For us—and for all existence.”

Everyone snapped their limbs and released peculiar nostril sounds in agreement. The Smoke Wizard gestured for the Bacon Keepers to bring forth the Holy Bacon Cure, the oldest bacon strip known in history. The keepers vanished into the folds of Bacon Hill and returned bearing the sacred relic. They handed it to the Smoke Wizard, who passed it to the other Bacon Mights, and finally to the ordinary Baconites. Each took a deep whiff of the Holy Bacon Cure, closed their eyes, and let out a great nostril-shaking sigh, momentarily lost in trance.

As the relic made its way around, a pair of Bacon Mights from the Gust Clan sensed a sudden shift in the wind. Before they could announce it, the inevitable happened: the soft breeze turned into a fierce gust. It snatched the delicate Holy Bacon Cure from the hands of Claptikof, a young Baconite known for clapping with one arm.

In an instant, the sacred strip soared above the Bacon Universe and vanished into the Man Universe. Shock rippled through the crowd. No one knew what to do.

Soft Hazel rose and proclaimed, “Let our journey into the Man Universe begin with this great shift in the wind!”

The leader of the Gust Clan followed: “Let this era be known as the Time of Gone with the Wind!”

And so, the social order shifted once again—Breeze Clan rising close to power, Gust Clan reigning supreme — but for once, the entire Bacon Universe was united under a single purpose:
to reclaim the Holy Bacon Cure.

Chapter 8: Sticking your toes in the water, anyone?

The events had unfolded much faster than anyone in the Bacon Universe could have imagined. A normal day there is usually uneventful—peaceful, even. Their entire focus revolves around baking the next perfect strip of crispy bacon. They live by three sacred traits: devotion, humor, and Mistakes — forever devoted to bacon, ever eager to reach a blissful smile and always ready to improvise and and to celebrate mistakes.

Yet, in less than a few sniffs, they had interacted with the humans of the Man Apple and lost their holiest possession—the Ancient Bacon Cure. It felt as though they needed a vacation from existence itself. But in the Bacon Universe, the path back to harmony is always the same: bake more bacon.

And so they did. The Baconites and Bacon Mights lit fires across the land and brought out the raw strips. Before long, the first batch of crisp, golden bacon was ready to be sniffed—the first of its kind baked while the Bacon Universe existed inside another, the Man Universe. The aroma carried a peculiar undertone, infused with foreign scents that lingered from the Man Realm. It was unfamiliar, unsettling, but it would have to do. Deep down, they knew they would never grow accustomed to the new smell—but this was part of the bargain, and they accepted it.

They cooked and cooked until the air, smoke, and wind patterns aligned—conducive once again for their sacred trance dance. The Baconites began shaking their arms and legs, making snorkeling sounds through their nostrils as they drifted deeper into the trance, smiles blooming across their faces.

Except this trance was different. The aroma was tainted, and the rhythm of their breath no longer matched the cosmic beat. The Bacon Mights began snapping their arms in unison, chanting the ancient call of the Holy Bacon Strip—but nothing happened. The Man Universe’s scent disrupted the ritual.

Bliss Guard, a Bacon Might known for improvisation — and for making the most mistakes — decided to change everything. Abruptly, they began snapping faster and faster. The others hesitated, shocked, but soon followed. The once mesmerizing chant dissolved into chaos. Arms and legs tangled, heads spun, and their celestial harmony broke into pure cosmic noise.

Yet Bliss Guard persisted. Like a cosmic DJ remixing reality, they experimented with new beats and scents, weaving the foreign with the familiar. The process was messy; several Baconites fainted amid the sensory storm. But then—it happened. A new rhythm emerged, one that harmonized the two worlds of scent: the pure aroma of bacon and the wild undertones of humanity.

A handful of resilient Baconites still standing began to sway together, smiling wide. One by one, the fallen rose, joining the rhythm. Soon, the entire Bacon Universe pulsed in blissful unison. Balance had returned. And with it came the strength—and the courage—to begin the search for the Holy Bacon Cure once more.

Chapter 9: The Party

As they came to themselves, the first thing they noticed was that they had attracted a large crowd of Humanoids, all dancing their own way, to the snapping rhythms of Bliss Guard.

Character Encyclopedia

Soft Hazel

from the Breeze Clan. The gentle shade of their skin and their calm demeanor earned them the name early in life. Among the bacon children, Soft Hazel was always the calmest—quietly observing, pondering even the simplest tasks and routines.

In the Bacon Universe, children spent most of their time rolling down raw bacon hills. There were countless ways to roll, and rolling itself was considered an essential part of growing up. “A child rolled in raw bacon is the cutest thing!” the adults would say.

Soft Hazel, however, often stood off to the side, watching and thinking, “What if we rolled this way instead?” One day, they shared a new idea with the others. Broken Nose—a busy young Baconite full of energy—immediately volunteered to try it.

Following Soft Hazel’s plan, the children lay along the hill, spaced seventeen sniffs apart, doubling up as they went down so that by the end there were thirty-four Baconite kids stacked in the final pile. The idea was that as Broken Nose rolled, they would bounce from pile to pile, leaping higher and higher until they soared.

At first, it worked beautifully. Each jump drew cheers and laughter. But as the piles grew taller, the jumps became wild and uncontrollable. In the end, Broken Nose went tumbling headfirst into the final heap—nose first—breaking it yet again.

They stood up at once, covered in bacon grease, their nose glistening, and let out a deep, triumphant snorkel through their lower nostrils. Soft Hazel ran to them, wrapping them in a warm embrace and kissing their nose over and over. Broken Nose hugged back so tightly that one of Soft Hazel’s bacon-limp arms snapped.

Soft Hazel only laughed and reassured them, “Don’t worry—it happens all the time.”

Gladys Puff, Soft Hazel’s sibling, was known for creating ocean wave-like smoke patterns while cooking.  They too were the quiet type, which is the characteristic of the Breeze Clan. Members of the Breeze Clan were generally quiet, observing all matters. Gladys Puff got their name because they became Princess of Puffy Clouds of Smoke.

They worked tirelessly to summon the dances of smokes that matched the breeze spirits.  In the process, a vacuum would be created that resembled ocean waves.  Their arms danced so eloquently that other baconites would come to their cooking ritual with their comfy bacon wrapped chairs, sit there, sniff the bacon aroma and just watch Gladys Puff with joy and excitement.  It was definitely a scene. 

Gladys Puff was among the many Mighty Baconites who invoked the Great Smile of Content—the sacred expression that appeared on one’s face when cooking bacon in perfect harmony. The smile was the ultimate sign of being one with the holy moment. In theory, every instant could be transformed into a moment of contentment, bringing forth the smile. But in practice, it was not so easy; distractions were everywhere.

For instance, if the simple act of gathering firewood was seen merely as a chore, then the moment was lost and forgotten. Yet, if that same act was contemplated as a sacred part of a greater sequence—an offering that restored balance to their universe—then each moment could build upon the next, and the smile would shine upon everyone nearby.

Gladys Puff, however, possessed a secret art—a sacred trick they would summon to draw the Great Smile upon the faces of those who witnessed their cooking ritual.
As they cooked, their many arms moved in fluid waves, sculpting puffs of smoke into hypnotic patterns, while their fingers snapped in perfect rhythm. This rhythm, known as the Gypsy Tap, rose and fell through delicate shifts in sound and intensity, coaxing the smoke to surrender and dance in harmony with them.

As the smoke swayed, the people would rise and join in, snapping along. The more they snapped, the fiercer the fire grew; more smoke, more puff, more rhythm—until all were bound in a trance of movement and breath. Though Baconites did not eat bacon, their bellies would tremble as if savoring a divine feast, their bodies swaying in an ecstatic dance so powerful that it could bring the onlookers to the edge of orgasmic bliss.  They called this dance, the belly dance of heavenly smokes.  

It was said that Baconites who wished to conceive attended Gladys Puff’s cooking ceremonies—for in that union of fire, smoke, and rhythm, creation itself seemed to shimmer into being.

Smoke Wizard

Mighty Mousee

Two-Plus_Towsy

Bliss Guard

Broken Nose

Grandfather Clock