Untouched/Incomplete - Part Three

Yeah, I work in the butcher shop.

It’s a living. They call it a “carshootery” or whatever but I know what it is. We butcher things here, so I call it a butcher shop. They can fancy it up however they’d like. Though I suppose I don’t blame them. It’s grotesque what we do here.

The Rakas, or whatever they get called, whatever they call themselves, bring us in the goods. Sometimes they’re young, sometimes they’re old. And the rates they charge change based on a number of factors. Here they are:

1) Age. The younger they are, the better the meat. It’s tender and soft. The meat tastes a little better and cooks more evenly.

2) Size. Let’s face it: the bigger the muscle, the larger the steak. That’s just how it is. If you got one with a dinky little meat muscle, then it’s not really worth that much. But if you’ve been working that sucker for years and it’s big and plump… mmmm… now we’re talking.

3) Health. How’s it look when it walks in? Does it have a healthy strut? A fearful creep? Is it limping at all? How it’s mouth? Teeth clean? Any smells of disease?

4) Source. Where’s it come from? What kind of conditions has it been living in? Meat from one place is worth a lot more than meat from others. Some people swear that certain regions have different flavor palates. I think that’s a load of horseshit but I’m not paid for my opinions.

No sir, I am not. I am paid to make good cuts and sell the meat for the highest price attainable. Let me tell you how the process works, ok?

First, the Rakas go out into the Dirtlands and negotiate with potential sellers. If they can get a price they like, they’ll load up their wagons as full as they can get them and bring ’em into what we call the Bartering Floor. It’s like a big auction of sorts where butchers, men and women like me, will offer money to the Rakas for the cuts. Now remember, we aren’t buying the whole thing. Just the cuts. Once we’ve settled on a price and the transaction is complete, they’re brought back to our shops for us to get a closer look. I’ll look them up and down and make a few marks on where I’m going to cut. Sometimes they’re really nervous and shaking. Sometimes they’re excited and just happy to be somewhere new. Next we’ll knock them out with some gas and tourniquet where ever the cut is gonna be from. I’ll make my incisions and take the agreed upon meat.

I’m one of the talented ones so I can just take the meat and leave the rest. I don’t know what good it does them afterwards but most of them, if given the choice, will request that you leave some behind. Other guys, less talented ones, will truly butcher them and just take the whole limb. I mean, maybe they figure they bought it so why not but to me, there’s a decency in leaving a man as whole as you can. I’ve got no use for his arm bones so why take them?

Once we’re done, we’ll wake them up and make sure they’re comfortable, doing ok. That sort of thing. Then we’ll pack them up and send them back to the Dirtlands with the rest of the payment. Easy as pie.

I do the work the civies don't want to think about. I'm a butcher and my name is whatever it pleases you.