The C&K Barbecue experience begins and ends with agony. First you have a five-minute wait at the carry-out hut, awash in the aroma of tomato and vinegar. Torture. Then there's the drive home, fighting the urge at every stoplight to tear into the steaming, sweet-smelling takeout containers. C&K has been taunting barbecue lovers like this since 1963. And as one longtime fan notes, "Those in the know know there's no other barbecue like it." Current owner Daryle Brantley runs the place with the help of his wife and four children. Every day at least one of them is on the premises manning the rotisserie and dishing out super-size slices of sweet-potato pie. The pork comes from Jayson Meat Co. on Martin Luther King Drive, says Brantley's eldest son, Oz. "And everything we sell here, we make here." The rib tips, loaded with meat, literally shimmy off the bone. The sauce is thin, and tingles underneath your fingertips. By the time the Styrofoam is empty, your gut, legs and noggin have gone numb. Pain is pleasure.