![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRvxSZsYTSwt7W_syJfBO9hJRlKPJSEjyN0kUUjB06aluRe74RMjCgbxqJYEcvqzWX2ImhqkQMpwmFzAeJOB5C24814rWw2JzXevFU03-NTY5bx0I74rCwIR82YPWroau7snWwqqUgAI9q/s200/HotDog.jpg)
I do declare: it is not Balticon
Unless a pork-stuffed luncheon makes the scene.
Last year a BLT bestowed upon
Mur Lafferty, with extra B -- I mean
Way extra. "No pigs left" quoth Brent -- had its
Turn in the spolight. This year Arioch,
Called Morningstar, inspired me to fits
Of tweeting how his huge hot dog did rock
(Avast your gutter-thinking. I engage
Here in no metaphor). That frankfurter,
The longest, fattest I have seen this age,
Astonished all, I really do assure
You. But I'm very deeply puzzled that
The Fiendmaster quoth "something something cat."