“
All right enough. Shush. Be a man like your parents wish you were. OK. Let me just cut some of the fat off—oh god I’m for reals going to puke. I’m throwing this away. I’m just going to throw it—no, it’ll stink up the garbage. The rotting flesh in my garbage will smell. Why do I have a chunk of flesh in my home. Why did my parents think this was a cool gift. It’s like: Here, have a pound of animal parts. What is this, ancient viking times? What next, I have to marry my sister?
