Francine’s bacon had finally finished smoking after a full night in the machine. The glass walls lifted up high, releasing a plume of smoke from within, revealing the five perfectly smoked meatgirls.

The worker continued to talk to Francine as if she were still alive, a kind of dissociative habit of theirs.

“ Well there, you did well piggy. Don’t you smell good?” He complimented her sweltering ruddy corpse.

“Let's get you off this anal smoker.” He said as he pressed the button under the seat that retracted the anchor blades. Once he had done so, he lifted Francine’s juicy ass off the black dildo with a slock pop. Her asshole gaped wide, dripping her meat juices onto the smoker seat.

“Well, must’ve been a hell of a ride for you, your asshole is ruined. Good thing you don’t need to poop ever again.” He joked.
Framcine didn’t respond.

“My daddy always used to say that blondes make the best bacon. You and your cute friends here certainly give credence to his theory, I have to say.” He mused, as he drove a hook up into francine’s slack jawed mouth and through her hard palate into the brain with a crunch.

When he was done, all five smoked meatgirls were hanging side by side, and the smokehouse was ready to welcome new guests.

He gave one last prideful look over his work, five perfect, beautiful girl hams, hanging on hooks. Their skintones were the perfect brown-red of the tastiest girlbacon. He’d done a good job with these ones.

“Well, better get you pigs out to market.” He smiled approvingly.
Their dull, lifeless eyes gave no indication that they’d heard a word he said.

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