I took one bite and immediately went ‘mm mm mm,’ followed by a dignified yet primal ‘yum yum yum.’ The flavors danced on my tongue like a symphony of angels performing a cheese opera, each note hitting the perfect umami crescendo that could only be described as pure bliss.
As I sat there, eyes closed in pure ecstasy, I began fantasizing about a life dedicated to this cheese. I envisioned myself being lovingly buried in the very cave this cheese was aged in, entombed in its glorious, musty embrace. I would let the mold consume me, becoming one with the cheese, aging together as time passed, turning into a refined vintage beyond any mortal comprehension.
And as the centuries roll by, I picture the day when humanity’s tech tree progresses far enough to raise me from the dead. Picture it: scientists in hazmat suits, unearthing my perfectly aged cheese-coated corpse, proclaiming me a millennium vintage cheddar artifact of immeasurable value. They would gasp in awe as I am reborn, still savoring the lingering flavors of my eternal cheesy slumber, demanding only one thing: more cheese. We thank you, Calef.