The quest for a victory in Pennsylvania, while involving the usual baby-kissing, junk food and even bowling, has not been tested by that state's most potent weapon: scrapple. If Obama turned down chocolates at the Wilbur chocolate shop in Lititz, how would he respond to a slice of pork-mush that only the Pennsylvania Dutch and perhaps a $5,000 a night hooker could be asked to swallow?
The name originated from "scrap" or "scrappy", meaning odds and ends. It's a gray slab made from what remains after the tasty parts of a butchered pig have gone off to become bacon, chops and hot dogs. Scrapple is, by far, the worst thing I've ever had in my mouth. No other state has this to offer up. Eating scrapple would be the best litmus test to reveal which candidate is the most determined.
Pennsylvanians, waste no more time. Bring it on!