You were planning on refrigerating leftover slices of ham. You left the ham on the counter and fell asleep on the futon watching a Seinfeld rerun. In your anxious dream, the ham was trying to wrap itself to prepare for storage. As it rocked itself back and forth toward the drawer containing the tinfoil, beads of sweat formed on its clammy slabs. At this, the optimal temperature, dangerous spores, poisonous to you, multiplied rapidly.