“Unfortunatly with the bacon active the war started out like your mother on steroids; Fat and oversized. The best thing for the yard was the giant piece of nuke stuff attached to the thing of mother with a hint of lemon. Left without hope, the sergeant (count hooooob) set off the signal for retreat. With the threat of ultimate gas at hand, the local cows feared the worse. As the price for bacon increased, Count Hooooob was worried. Lost in the inflatory market, the count no longer thought of his loving wife and children back on the hills of Nebraska. The smell of high treason and dead zombies (which would make them alive seeing as dead people who are dead of death means living) rose through the air like…the speed in which smell travels. The Bacon however was very painful as it produced viruses that induced insanity. Darn…. That was the last word in the last sentence in the last line, the count would ever say.”

Thus was the report of Count hooooob. Millions have tried, and failed, to uncover its true meaning.