BIOGRAPHY
A cylinder of muscle tissue, 50 feet in diameter and three miles long, is supported by pitchfork shaped trestles, each supported by a base with poorly maintained wheels. These wheels squeak when the meat cylinder is repositioned in the morning to better use prevailing wind conditions. As the wind passes through the meat tunnel, flatulent sounds are produced and fluids occasionally spray from either end. Neighborhood children gather after school to laugh and play chicken with the intermittent discharge. This always makes the meat tunnel a little sad. It wants to be understood, and it often dreams of a better place.
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