"I tried to smoke a pig's head once." Ah. I see the problem here. Two things my mama taught all her chitlins: 1) Never smoke a pigs head or rump. As you say, they do not draw well, and; 2) Never try to teach a pig to sing. It is a waste of your time, and is annoying to the pig.
I believe item 2 may have value in this situation as a parable, where 'K bike rider' and "Rider's of the blessed Immohotep's gift to mankind" can be substituted in the lesson plan.
And BTW, each month, along with the arrival of the ON (and its insidious K-propaganda written by that urban terrorist, cigar smoker, and 007-wanna-be), I get the grumbly down in my tumbly that urges me to find a K bike to go along with the other infernal combustion devices contained within my garage. But three things always seem to calm the urge: there really isn't any room for a 'new' bike that will probably need some form of tender fondling; I haven't got enough time to fix the two Bocthers already in there, and; SWMBO has already threatened my nether regions with the pruning shears with regard to another vehicle. [Actually, the threat isn't real, because she already has possession of those bits (she carries them around in her purse, in case I ever need them again).]