[What NOT To Order At]….Bierkraft

This week, our normally recurring column, "What You Should Order At," is replaced by What NOT to Order At, after FIPS writer Jim had a spooky experience with some pickled eggs. Think of it as a sort of ghost story to help get you in the mood for Halloween.

Gather around the fire children. Yes, huddle close. Listen to it crackle and pop. Smell the smoke and see the shadows dance. Uncle Jim has a scary story for you. You see...you push baby filled strollers under cracked, tree lined sidewalks and unwind with $10 sangrias that lull you into a false sense of safety. But there is a monster here in our friendly neighborhood. A pink bulb of hard sweetness. A giant M&M from hell. I’m talking about the pickled eggs at Bierkraft. What sorcery is this? What creature has this fallen from? A demon’s zygote made from a place of great evil.

Why did I order pickled eggs? I’m a loud boastful man who pretends he’s braver than he is. I’ve been drawn to the occult my entire life. I’m lonely and seeking the sweet kiss of death from my dark prince overlord, Lucifer. I was just really hammered from all the great strong beers available at Biercraft.

What did it taste like? The first thing you experience when you eat the egg is how sweet it is. Like bread and butter pickles. Bread and butter pickles are monstrous abominations of preserved food. Like that shark meat that Icelanders bury for months before eating. Hakari. The next thing you notice is how hard and tough it is. It’s missing the leather straps but with its texture and reddish color it's closer to a ball gag than a food item.

I’m sure you’ll all be sleeping in your tents with your flashlights on tonight. Don’t be afraid though, you shivering little peckerheads. The pickled eggs can’t get to you unless you order them. Or can they??? MuhahaHAHAHA.