You slowly drift back to the realm of consciousness, and study your surroundings. The clock buzzing incessantly next to your head flashes 9:00 over and over again, to the point where you grab your baseball bat and smash it like a pumpkin on Halloween.
As you work your inner rage out on your innocent alarm clock, your mind starts to wander. You know what sounds really good right now?
Bacon.
You stroll into the kitchen to make fry up some muhfuckin Bacon, baseball bat in tow. How many strips do you want to put in the pan?