Bacon Tree in the Desert

TWO Mexicans are stuck in the desert after crossing into the United States, wandering aimlessly and starving. They are about to just lie down and wait for death, when all of a sudden, Luis says, “Hey, Pepe, do you smell what I smell. Ees bacon, I theenk.”


”Is, Luis, eet sure smells like bacon.”


With renewed hope they struggle up the next sand dune, and there, in the distance, is a tree loaded with bacon. There’s raw bacon, there’s fried bacon, back bacon, double smoked bacon—every imaginable kind of cured pork.

“Pepe, Pepe, we ees saved. Ees a bacon tree.”

“Luis, maybe ees a meerage. We ees in the desert, don’t forget.”

“Pepe, since when deed you ever hear of a meerage that smell like bacon… ees no meerage, ees a bacon tree.”

And with that, Luis staggers towards the tree. He gets to within five metres, Pepe crawling close behind, when suddenly a machine gun opens up, and Luis drops like a wet sock. Mortally wounded, he warns Pepe with his dying breath, “Pepe, go back, man. You was right, ees not a bacon tree!”

“Luis, Luis mi amigo… what ees it?”

“Pepe, ees not a bacon tree. Ees, ees, ess, ess… ess a ham bush!”

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