The doorbell rang. It was a courier with

The doorbell rang. It was a courier with a very large, heavy box. Written on the top was "OPEN WITH CARE." So I did. I regret to this day having opened that parcel. It was

the severed head of the former Bolivian soccer chief, Carlos Chavez. I didn't know if I should cry in delight or terror. I tried to shout out to the courier, but he had already

over the fence and waited. Not 2 minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. I opened it. "Is this yours?" my neighbor, Lenny, asked, showing me the severed head.

Lenny dumped the head into my arms and set the machete on the kitchen table. I gasped, "Wow, that looks tasty! Cauliflower?" I promptly invited him over for dinner.

The head of cauliflower, which I chopped up, went perfectly with the steak. Lenny was slightly late for dinner, which I forgave, but I noticed he was still carrying his machete.

"Lenny, what've I told you about weapons at the table?" I said. "What weapons?" He was trying feebly to conceal his machete. I chewed my steak and said, in a low deadly tone, "

If you need help cutting your steak, use the proper utensil." Lenny knew I meant business. Dinner etiquette was as important to me as deadly weapons. Kenny shoved his machete

into his pants and looked around. Then I saw him reach for the ball n' chain. "Lenny! Were you raised by wolves? Use the knife!" Others at the table looked on silently, chewing

their cud. Sure, no one suspected they were cows now, but one misstep like Lenny almost made would surely expose them for what they truly were: the last bovines in a canine world.