“Does the beef salute the butcher as it throbs to it's knees?”
“Its not the size of the rise that satisfies, it’s the throb of the knob that does the job.”
“Beef. Yes. Roast beef. It's the Swedish term for beef that is roasted.”
“I am a great eater of beef, and I believe that does harm to my wit”
“What is that in his hand?""A cleaver. As in-""Butcher's knife.""You got it.""I hope not.""He does not look happy.""Are you sure it's a he?""I don't want to know.”
“Beingless beings. Stop! Throb always without you and the throb always within. Your heart you sing of. I between them. Where? Between two roaring worlds where they swirl, I. Shatter them, one and both. But stun myself too in the blow. Shatter me you who can. Bawd and butcher, were the words. I say! Not yet awhile. A look around.”