. . . “Hey Pepe. You smell what I smell? Eez bacon. Ahm sure
of eet.”
“Si, Luis eet smellalike bacon to mee”.
So, with renewed strength, they struggle up the
next sand dune, and there, in the distance, is a tree loaded
with bacon.
There’s raw bacon dripping with moisture, there’s
fried bacon, back bacon, double smoked bacon.
Every imaginable kind of cured pig meat.
“Pepe, Pepe, weez saved! Eet EEZ bacon tree!”
“Luis, you sure eez not meerage? Weez in dee
desert don’ forgeet”
“Pepe. When you ever hear of a meerage that smellalike bacon?
Eez no meerage. Eez bacon tree”.
And with that . . . Luis races towards the tree.
He gets to within 5 metres, with Pepe following closely
behind, when suddenly a machine gun opens up and Luis
is cut down in his tracks.
It is clear he is mortally wounded but, true friend that he is,
he manages to warn Pepe with his dying breath.
“Pepe. Go back man. You was right . . . eez not bacon tree.”
“Luis Luis, mi amigo . . . what eez eet?”
"Pepe. Eez not bacon tree . . .
. . . eez . . .
. . . eez . . .
. . . eez . . .
. . . eez . . .
. . . eez . . . a Ham Bush."
