Raw Meat

The other day, as I was sitting around, I noticed a large piece of raw meat stuck to my inner thigh. I looked down at this with noted interest, and then I resumed watching the sun set, but this time it was in the north? This was curious, but I thought it was just my sense of direction, so I finished watching the sunset and thought "What a niffty sunset" and proceeded to walk away, but the peice of meat on my inner thigh kept flapping and irritating the hell out of me. So, I decided to look down at it again, and to my growing dismay, discovered that the meat was growing rapidly! So I poked it. It grunted. Iwas hungry, I mean REALLY hungry, I looked at the meat, looked up, looked at the meat and whipped out my trusty fork and knife and began to eat it, despite it's squeeling. As I reached down with the fork and knife for the fourth or fifth time, the meat suddenly formed a mouth and devoured my utensils (not to mention my hand, too)! I was put off by this, and glancing across the room I saw my trusty pitchfork, but as I got up to grab it, the slab of meat whipped out an appendage and grabbed my ankle. "Hey!" I said, and began to poke it, if formed a finger and poked back, then it spit out the fork, which lodged in my eye. "Damn! That was my good eye!" I said. This was really starting to get old, as this was the sixth time this week that this had happened. I grolwed at the peice of meat and it spit out the knife which lodged in my other eye, "Dang," I thought, "Do not look at meat with remaining eye." So, I decided that this had gone on long enough, so I decided to tear the meat off my leg, but it was so strong, that it tore off most of my leg; oh, well, I thought, at least it's not on me anymore. I fell back into my chair with a sigh of relief, at which time it reaffixed itself to my leg. We reached a truce and decided to live in a symbiotic relationship where it would be my leg and I would give it food and metal. And we lived happily ever after.
written by Dylan Glas krill@mit.edu, Emily Havens emhavens@mit.edu, and Cat Tait cat@mit.edu.