Jerry sat at the park bench alone, a warm spring breeze tickled his neck. He gazed at the frank, the mustard, the ketchup, the relish, the white bun. For tomorrow, and for the rest of his life, Jerry resolved to eat no more meat. He sighed and then opened wide, determined to savor this ultimate Hebrew National. The spritely, young jogger, decked out in hot pink and black, saw neither Jerry nor his sausage.