It was a beautiful roast. Nice slab of fat on the bottom, but only slightly veined through the rest, which was thick with quality meat that would be so tender after I was done cooking it that it would literally fall off the fork when I tried to scoop it out of the crock pot.
The project started great. I seared the roast in an iron skillet. Locked the juices in and added a little extra yum at the same time.
Then I set the meat in some water with bay leaves, salt, and pepper. And left. Yeah. Forgetting to turn the frigging crock pot on.
I think this is how the Swamp Thing was spawned. No human mom and alien dad. No reptile/human DNA fusion. Just a damn roast that some distracted author forgot to cook and then, with regret bordering on plate throwing, had to throw out. One lightning strike later you've got a walking, hissing serial killer with the hots for screaming women who conveniently pass out so they can be carried around the Everglades like lazy queens. The bright side? Swamp Roast Thing probably smells delicious.