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
  • pulled out a knife and slit his own throat with no explanation whatsoever. I looked back at the severed head and grabbed it by the hair. Smiling, I drop kicked it
  • 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.


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