Things started heating up. Wanda was rocking on the Richter scale. She was swinging in the chariot, round and round. Tied up on the rack, she felt the thumb of culinary ecstasy closing in from behind her…

Emerging blinking from her journey over the moon and around the cosmos, Wanda was at a loss momentarily. But eventually her larynx recovered from that fateful first taste and she was able to gasp out, “How…much…for…a pound?â€?

The old, frail shopkeeper just smiled. “Thirty dollars, my dear.â€?

Though the price was steep, Wanda was willing to do anything, pay any price to have the whale cheese, which in 180 seconds’ time had taken control of her mind. She could think of nothing else.

She half-snatched the bag from the vendor and forked over the cash hastily, clutching the bag with the zeal of an old woman, refusing to give up her handbag to a thief. She trembled in anticipation of the hours she would spend in other planes of existence, under the incredible spell of this most entrancing dairy product.