} Ok, that's probably not the answer you're looking for. In fact, since
} I'm omniscient, I *KNOW it's not the answer you were looking for. So,
} let's expound a little, shall we?
} Imagine you're a lowly peasant in a Middle-Earth-style setting.
} You're roughly 38 years old, have several kids and a plump, loving
} wife. However, you're extremely poor. You spend your days getting
} paid to shift mud from one pile to another for the sheer amusement of
} your lord, who busies himself with hurrying from mud pile to mud pile,
} his only purpose to watch those under him slave away in misery. If
} you do a particularly good job, you get paid a couple of silver pieces
} instead of the standard few copper pieces. You're a hard worker, but
} not very good at your job, so you don't get a lot of extra money. But
} that's ok, because you're happy with your lot in life. Your kids love
} you, your wife loves you, and you're debt-free.
} One day, while you're shifting a particularly heavy pile of mud, your
} lord happens by on his horse. Not only is he watching you work, but
} also the Prince of the land. The Prince is a snobbish brute, spoiled
} in every way, and seems to be about 150 pounds heavier than he should
} be. He laughs heartily at your misery, commenting to the lord how
} deliciously pitiful you look when all of a sudden, the Prince's horse
} sees a snake lurking near it! The horse panics, and begins galloping
} at an incredibly fast pace towards a 150 foot cliff no more than a
} quarter of a mile away. Without thinking, you quickly shove your
} lord off of his horse, climb on and race towards the doomed Prince.
} The Prince's horse is still panicked, but having a heck of a time
} trying to run with the obese Prince on its back, so you're easily able
} to catch up to him. Within feet of the cliff, you deftly grab the
} Prince, drawing him to the ground just as the terrified horse plunges
} down the cliff to his death. The Prince, shaken and a little
} embarrassed, thanks you whole-heartedly, and makes his way back to the
} King's castle.
} It isn't long before word of your heroic efforts to save his son
} reaches the King's ears. The King is so grateful that he immediately
} sends for you to join him in a banquet and party in your honor!
} Oh, the banquet is quite a sight to behold. You are placed at the
} King's side, encouraged to eat as much as you can possibly eat, drink
} as much as you can possibly drink. The King, like his son, is a large
} man of some girth. His appetite is a hearty one, and although he is
} King, his table manners are atrocious. But you enjoy yourself, having
} a large portion of every type of food that is brought before you. And
} the Ale! Oh my, you are given the best ale in all the lands! By
} midnight, you are extremely full, extremely drunk, and extremely sick
} of eating. But the party continues! And, being the honored guest,
} you are not allowed to stop eating or drinking. It is four in the
} morning, and you are literally stuffed and drunk off of your arse.
} Finally, the party is waning, and the King is just about to leave for
} the night, when suddenly, you throw up everything you've eaten in a
} huge, smelly, brown-red mixture of food, ale, mucous and stomach bile.
} It really is quite a mess.
} The King is shocked and horrified! The custom for the land is that a
} guest of the King NEVER throws up any food given to him during the
} course of the feast. You have committed one of the vilest acts you
} could possibly commit, and the only recourse for your actions is death
} by being drawn and quartered. Or, the King tells you, you could
} re-consume your sin, so to speak. After a night's debauchery and
} gluttony, you are now looking at a congealing mess that you realize
} you must eat if you want to live to see the sunrise.
} Got that?
} Ok, pickled dragons with mustard has the taste that is a lot like you
} think eating that regurgitated mess would taste, only without the
} wonderful texture.
} You owe the Oracle a doggy bag.