Terribly True Tales Of Low Carb Terror!

Well, summer is all most at an end now, and I’m sure we all had fun camping out, toasting pork rinds over a roaring campfire while our non-low carb friends polluted their systems with jet-puffed sugar marshmallows burnt to a crisp at the end of wooden sticks. I tell ya, who needs smores when you can enjoy some sweet gouda and cauliflower melted betwixt two crisp-fried pork chops?

Okay, so I’m a little bitter. Yes, I miss roasting marshmallows. And I miss letting the marshmallow catch on fire and chasing people around the campfire with flaming sugar on a stick, screaming “THE FLAMING GHOST OF THE MARSHMALLOW IS SEEKING VENGEANCE ON YOOOOOOOUUUU!!!”

And I miss getting to eat the blackened husks of burnt marshmallows while my niece goes “Ewwwwwwwwweeee! Gross, Uncle Brian!”

But I made it. I made it through the entire summer without eating a single white-n-fluffy piece of heaven, and it didn’t kill me. I was rather happy to just sit there by the campfire and tell ghost stories while the others had their sugary treats.And as I told the horror stories and urban legends to my niece, I realized that we in the low carb community have plenty of true-life horrors to compare with even the most classic of open flame nighttime tales.

And just like the story of the lady that microwaved her poodle to get it dry, our tales of terror are REAL. So presented here, for the first time ever, are two tales from “THE LOW CARB CRUSADER’S TERRIBLY TRUE TERRIBLE TALES OF LOW CARB TERROR THAT ARE TERRIBLE AND TERRIFYING!”

And remember, each one of these is an honest-to-gosh true tale of terror from my own life!

Terribly True Terrible Low-Carb Tale #1

It was getting late in the day, and Brian realized he had been driving nonstop since early morning without any breakfast or anything. He was hungry. He took the first exit he could find and came to the little town of Anytown, USA.

As I said before, it was pretty late in the day and since Anytown was such a small town, most of the stores and restaurants were closed. Brian was about ready to give up and knock himself out of ketosis by going to a vending machine to get a Snickers bar when he finally saw his salvation; a sign proclaiming “EAT/GAS” in all its blinking-buzzing neon glory.

There was no one else in the restaurant, just Brian and the haggard waitress who kept calling him “honey.” As Brian looked over the menu, he came to a grim realization. Every item on the menu boasted that it was batter-dipped and coated with their world famous brown-sugar-and-molasses BBQ Sauce!
Brian asked the waitress if it was possible to get something made without the sauce or the breading, to which she said “Sure thing, honey. I’ll take good care of you.”The waitress soon came back with a plate piled high with delicious looking sausages and a jar of Dijon mustard … one of Brian’s favorite meals! Brian ate and ate and ate till no sausages remained and the jar of Dijon mustard was little more than a memory.

“Those were GREAT!” praised Brian. “I’ve never had such good sausage!”

The haggard waitress smiled evilly at Brian and said, “Everyone just loves our sausage. We make it right here in Anytown. The secret to how good they are is that the main ingredients are BROWN SUGAR AND MOLASSES, AND WE USE CORN MEAL AS A FILLER!!!”

Terribly True Terrible Low-Carb Tale #2

Brian and Crystal where two low-carbers who worked together at a very nice office… or at least, the office looked nice on the outside. There was no way they could have known the horror that lurked behind closed doors there!

But evil lurked in the quiet hallways, and there was a sick perversion there that was carried out by the leather-clad degenerates who are also known as THE INSIDIOUS EVENT COORDINATORS!
One day, Brian and Crystal saw memos taped on every door and in every cubicle of the office (where the memos came from, no one really knows) saying:

“COMPANY PICNIC AND COOKOUT THIS FRIDAY AT NOON! BRING YOUR APPETITE!”
Now, as everyone in the civilized world knows, the word “cookout” indicates that there will be plenty of hamburgers and hot dogs and maybe even some chicken and ribs… everything a good low carber could ever want!

Brian and Crystal were excited. Friday came around, and before they knew it the clock was striking twelve. Time for the eats! Our two heroes rushed out into the parking lot to see lines had already started forming at a long, covered buffet table. One woman at the head of the line was beckoning to them. “Come on, Brian and Crystal! Come on over and have good food!”
They got into line and grabbed their paper plates and plastic forks, not even noticing the oddly absent scent of charcoal briquettes or burning flesh. Finally, they reached the buffet table and what do you think they saw there?

Baked potatoes. Piles and piles of foil-wrapped, carbohydrate-laden baked potatoes. NOTHING but baked potatoes!

Brian and Crystal stared with their mouths wide open with the horror at the disgusting plateau before them. Baked potatoes?!? What type of zipper mask-wearing FREAK associates baked potatoes with picnics or cookouts?

Then a voice from somewhere (Brian and Crystal knew not where the voice came from, they were in such shock) said, “Don’t worry. All the goodies are at the end of the table.”

Unable to take their eyes off the piles of evil carb-laden potatoes, Brian and Crystal shuffled forward in the line to the promised land known as the “goodies” at the end of the table, in hopes that there would be some form of low carb sustenance….

And there, at the end of the table, they found their low carb alternative: the “goodies.” Little bitty containers of imitation bacon bits, reduced fat margarine, and fat-free sour cream.

It is my hope that lines like “The secret to how good they are is that the main ingredients are brown sugar and molasses, and we use corn meal as a filler” and the word “goodies” being used to describe little containers of imitation bacon bits, reduced fat margarine, and fat free sour cream” become as well known as “And there, hanging from the rear view mirror, was a bloody hook,” or, “Some say he still walks these woods at night, looking for his missing spleen.”

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Do you have any low carb tales of terror? Drop me a line at [email protected] and let me know, and you just might see your story dramatized here in a future column.

Maybe we’ll even have a drawing and award prizes. We could put all the tales of terror in a BIG hat, draw one out, and the winner might get to join Brian and Crystal at the next company cookout.