Once upon a time, there was a man made all out of meat. He had a sausage patty for a head, sausage links for arms, bacon strips for legs, chicken livers for feet, and a meatloaf for a trunk. He never went outside or did anything, because he was made of meat, and he figured he’d be immediately eaten by dogs.
He said this to his friends all the time, and they got sick of it.
He’d be like, “Oh, gee, guys I wish I could go to that party, but maybe some dogs will come.” Or, “Shoot, guys, I wish I could go to the movie with you. But. I just worry about dogs.”
Finally, his friends told him, “Hey, listen, meat man – we’re all made out of meat! Look around. All of us. Meat. That’s what people are. You know what else is made out of meat? Dogs. You think they sit around worrying that you’re going to eat them? No!”
The meat man had never really thought about that, but he supposed his friends were right! Everyone was a meat man.
The meat man put on a coat and stepped out into the yard for the first time in ever. He tipped his sausage patty up to the sun and inhaled the fresh air deeply. He smiled.
Then, the dogs descended. They came from miles around, and it was brutal and fast. His friends watched from the house – it was all over before they could even think to intervene.
“Shit,” said one. “I guess he was right about himself.”
“We shouldn’t feel guilty,” said another. “Right? I mean, it wasn’t like it was much of a life for him to be living.”
Accismus 