The other day I ran into Scott Bakula in the grocery store. After a short conversation (and repeatedly mistaking him for Richard Dean Anderson) he looked around, then motioned me to the back of the store. There I stood, surrounded by a fort of cured ham and pre-cooked bacon strips, when it happened... Mr. Bakula (or "Count" as he likes to be called) passed me a small box wrapped in brown paper.

I returned home with the box (and a cured ham) that evening nearly bubbling over with anticipation. I hastily ripped apart the paper, pulled open the cardboard, and then I saw it...