I think it's an adolescent rite of passage to go through an obsession with sporks. At least, my high school friends and I did. I still have a gold-painted spork on my wall that my best friend Jess made for me, I believe as part of a birthday present. They have a funny name, an unusual shape, and your lame-wad parents don't keep them in the lame-wad utensil drawer. No, you have to go to the mall food court to get your spork. Anything can happen at the mall food court.
But then observant reader Jeff sent me a link to the splayd, a combination of all three basic utensils. The splayd has a spoon-like bowl, four tines, and sharp sides for cutting. And it's metal. And they come in an attractive box. Don't even get me started on spifes. (Spifes? Spives? Spiven?)
Sporks, I think you've been bested. My golden memories of childhood seem a bit dimmer.