The Chicken Killer
So I was at the market the other day. I couldn't tell you the name of the town or even what town it was near to, but perhaps these details don't matter. Regardless, what caught my eye was the Chicken Killer. She was probably in her mid-fifties, but looked older (aged by her profession I suppose).
She wasn't alone, as there were other Chicken Killers around, but she was the busiest, the most frantic. The chickens sit in cages, row upon row, pecking at the space between the bars, waiting to die. Every once in a while the Chicken killer reaches into the cage, pulls out an unlucky ground bird by the neck, and holds it high in the air. She stares into it's crazed eyes with a slightly sympathetic look, before spinning the bird around violently, inducing a life endind sound. This isn't the end.
The bird then get's non-nonchalantly tossed into a spinning vat of indescribable excitement. It involves water, agitation, and the birds feet sticking into the air, shaking this way and that. Clearly this is the Chicken Killer's favourite part, for she stands there with the most proud gleam and (as I can also attest) endless amazement as the feathers get sucked out the bottom of the vat. Eventually a limp, naked chicken is pulled from the excitement chamber.
So I bought the bird and cut it into pieces and served it with cashews I think. But I can't recollect for sure.
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Posted October 07, 2008 by Miles MacDonald
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