General

It was its own horror show, that butcher's shop. The corpses lined up and stretched out with the most ignominious ways. Then there was that smell of blood, the death stench. And in it all stood the butcher, cleaver in hand. There are times to follow tradition, and time for change, and I couldn't help but feel that the future had to be a kinder place where we learned to separate our needs from the bodies of other animals, mammals especially.