NOT FOR THE
FAINT OF HEART BUT RATHER FOR:
THE SHARPEST KNIFE
It was just another random Friday. Working off a serious
buzz that hit full strength well before noon, I was determined to
take a nap and rest up for the start of Friday night. I was
ready to drift away quietly when my phone rang and my friend Bryan
called. His voice carried an enthusiasm towards life that
makes you drop everything and go along for the ride.
He spoke excitedly, something about PItch
and Putt golf, Opal Divine's, drinks, and a unloading a dead deer.
I was soon out the door and heading for his house. Apparently,
a deer got caught up in a batting cage net, and freaked out until it
died there. John's neighbor is in charge of collecting
wounded, scared, captured and dead animals throughout town, so he
asked for John and Bryan's help.
When they arrived, the deer had just died
and it was soon in Bryan's possession to be processed for its tasty
venison. Bryan wasn't shy and started right in, ripping the
breastplate in half and exposing the innards, as our more
experienced deer processing friend, Flip, showed up to lend a hand
to the proceedings, allowing John and myself to sit back and watch
the proceedings, joining in to help hold the occasional leg or two. |
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Despite the blood and guts,
the whole incident was nowhere near as disgusting or stomach turning as
one would think. Despite Lucy trotting out with a Miller Lite in
hand and holding her head in dismay when she wasn't turning away
completely, the rest of us got along fine, drinking beer, Crown, and
joking the whole way through.
As the sky darkened, and
the job turned to cutting pieces of meat into smaller pieces of meat, we
threw it all in a cooler and iced the remains. After a quick
cleanup, we sat around spent, finishing off another few beers before we
turned into true healthy carnivores and ate chicken wings. With a
pile of bones at the center of the table, the dog chewing on some of the
deer scraps, we sat around with a newfound appreciation for the butchers
of this fine land.
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Intestines are not a fan of gravity
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sizing it all up
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It's good to be a gangster
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Just like anatomy class
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Master and apprentice
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holding on
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insert Silence of the Lamb joke here
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Action shot
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Keep on truckin
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out damned spot!
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Bryan the Butcher
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Like a treasure chest, but with venison
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