Ham...uh, well, one of my cats does an excellent impression of the shark from Jaws when I have ham.
When Benedict was a kitten, he managed to get onto the kitchen cabinet and carry away a ham- I put the rest of the sandwich makings away, without noticing. Until I came home, and a furry bowling ball on legs greeted me. I figure that with our relative weights, it would have been the equivalent of me eating 2-3 hams. He looked like he was about to explode, but he was still up and around and his usual lively kitten self. Then he settled down for a long nap. I was sure it was going to put him off ham for life, but it didn't- either that, or he never associated the taste of ham with the sensation of having his fur coat stretched to the max. I kept an eye on him, but he just laid there on the sofa, his belly wider than his head at the ears...and saying 'Je regret rien.'