When I was born they all gathered around and said "that boy is special, that boy is meant for something great." When I was a young one I didn't have many friends. All the children knew I was different. I remember it so clearly. My family was driving through Texas on our way to New Mexico to hunt Native Americans. We were stopped at a gas station and I wandered off. I could smell something, something smokey. I noticed a line of people. I walked past them. There was a large, hulking man with a red beard who was carving meat, meat the likes of which I had never seen or smelled. The large, hulking man noticed me and smiled, and tore a piece of crust from the meat and handed it to me. I sampled. It was rich and peppery. A choir of angels sang and light poured down from the heavens. That's when I knew my purpose: to seek out great BBQ and peppery crusts. I am Pepper Bastard.
