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 Cannibal 4H Chapter Ten: Reaching Closure by Eurytion

   JOEY AND LINDA SUE BEGAN to give cow 701 her last grooming, rubbing a
thick coat of sunscreen over her translucent white skin.  Although the cow
would stay in the transfer box until her scheduled afternoon appointment,
without some protection even the four minutes in the hot sun it would take
to make the final walk to the slaughtering chute would redden her skin like
a lobster dropped into a pot of boiling water.

   As they smoothed the unguent on to 701's hide, they were preoccupied
with thoughts about the events to come.

   A bit morose, the three-time champion wasn't looking forward to the
afternoon.  Too many distractions.

   Billy & his parents would be there to achieve "closure" by watching
their former family member slaughtered.  Even though he and Billy had
patched up their difficulties over Valerie's conversion Billy had become a
frequent attendee at Cow 701's feedings, the fact that the convert's former
parents would be in attendance made Joey uneasy.

   To further complicate matters, a new local group of cattle rights
activists had promised to picket Crenshaw's in protest of the "barbaric"
methods used to produce human veal.  The press would be there to record
their actions.

   Joey was beginning to tire of his "fifteen minutes of fame." At first,
like any young man, he was excited.  His name and photograph were in the
local paper.  People knew who he was and sometimes pointed at him as he
walked down the street.  Young girls and some not so young girls flirted
with him.

   A number, including one middle-aged member of the local council who
brought along her 15-year old daughter and a series of restraints that
could have been used on the ranch, went farther providing Joey with a
variety of new and appreciated experiences.

   But, as time went on, the attention lost its lustre.  Joey felt
pressured to best himself.  If he didn't win the top prize every year at
the fair it could only mean that he was going backwards and that wasn't
acceptable.

   Well, thought Joey to himself, nobody said living at the top would be
easy.  But, in just a few more hours some of the pressure he was feeling
would be released.  Cow 701 would be slaughtered and ready for consumption.

   In contrast, Linda Sue was in high spirits.  For her it was a day of
triumph.

   A potential rival for Joey's affection was getting the punishment she
deserved.  Linda Sue knew that Valerie had cast her young eyes on Joey;
that Valerie wanted to supplant Linda Sue in Joey's life.  Unlike Joey who
thought Valerie's "crush" was cute and harmless, Linda Sue saw Valerie as a
serious rival for Joey's affections.

   Linda Sue had worked hard to shape Joey's future.  Without her
persuasion of Joey's dad, Joey would never have been able to enter his
first fair.  If Linda Sue hadn't shown the initiative to entice Al Crenshaw
into buying Joey's first winner, the business relationship between
Crenshaw's Superior Meats and Geryon Cattle Farms wouldn't have happened.
Even the veal project and Valerie's conversion wouldn't have taken place
without Linda Sue's machinations.

   Step by step Linda Sue had set Joey on the path to a future he had never
even dreamed about; towards prospects that had never seemed imaginable. 
She had big plans, for the two of them.  Plans she would never allow a
little mooncalf of a girl to ruin.  Today would put paid to Valerie's
ambitions and send a signal to others of a like mind that Joey Geryon was
hers and no one else's.

   Cow 701 was in a mood of oblivious contentment, her higher reasoning
functions pushed to the far recesses of her mind.  The young cow responded
readily to her master's touch as he massaged her sallow skin.  With each
stroke of her hide, every smear of sunscreen, her nipples hardened and her
vulva spread wider.

   Linda Sue, noticing the lubrication dripping down the cow's legs nudged
Joey.  "You know, in just a couple of hours, this cow will be hanging
upside down and draining.  You dad tells me that she's never been bred. 
She's sure ready for it.  I know you've bred other cows on the farm.  I've
even helped as you well remember.  Why don't you go ahead and breed this
cow before we take her to Crenshaw's?"

   "Now why would I want to do that when I've got you around," Joey replied
cagily.  "I know you'll be taking care of all of my needs soon enough. 
Besides, the anticipation of waiting to get you on the shaft just makes it
better in the end."

   "And just which shaft is it that you want to get me on Joey Geryon,"
asked Linda Sue?  Joey just smiled enigmatically.

   "Well, if you don't want to breed her yourself," retorted Linda Sue,
"let's get one or two of the hands in and let them have a go at her. 
They'd appreciate it.  I'd enjoy watching and you'd enjoy the aftermath of
letting me watch.  Besides it seems a shame to slaughter this cow before
she's had a full work out.  If you don't want to use the hired help, that
bull in stall 17 has a 10 1/2 inch pizzle that would send this cow out with
a real bang."

   "Linda Sue, we don't have time to have her bred.  We're due at
Crenshaw's in less than an hour and we still have plenty to do to get
ready. First time breedings aren't an exercise in calm and serenity and you
know how Al feels about anxious, skittish animals."

   "Any unnecessary stress hurts the quality of the meat," they chanted
together in imitation of Al, smiles on their faces.  "When Crenshaw's talks
about superior meats we mean it.  Calm, happy cattle slaughtered peacefully
provide us with the high calibre of meat that made our reputation."

   "All right Joey," said Linda Sue.  "I guess you're right.  We should
have bred her sooner though.  It seems such a waste to let this one go
unused.  She could have satisfied the lust of a half dozen of those fresh
bulls in the other section of the barn.  Oh, well it's too late now.  Let's
get her in the box and get on the way."

   As they drove to Crenshaw' superior meats, Joey and Linda Sue passed a
pair of teenagers jogging by the side on the road.  The redhead who was the
shorter of the pair had a nice ass that made Joey think of rump roasts
while her lanky brunette partner, whose ribs were clearly visible
underneath her cutoff shirt, had him thinking barbecue.  The two seemed to
be arguing as they ran.

   "Joey, we need to make plans about what to do next."

   "Humm?"

   "Pay attention, quit staring at those two girls.  The veal project is a
success.  Someone else can take that over now.  What is the next step?  How
do we keep moving forward."

   "Actually, sweetheart, I've got some plans along those lines."

   "Planning, without me!  Joey, what are you up to?"

   "I think you're going to like this if it all works out.  Give me a few
more days to firm up some of the details and then we'll talk about it."

   "Come on Joey, give me a clue.  What are you thinking about?"

   "Nope, you're just going to have to be patient, as hard as that is for
you.  But don't worry, you'll have a major role in this new project."

   Linda Sue pestered Joey without success to reveal at least a hint about
what he had in mind.

   "Just wait.  You'll find out when the time is right."

   With a humph, Linda Sue sat back in her seat.  "We'll see just how long
he can keep this a secret," she thought to herself.

   The truck carrying the transfer box slowly made it way through a crowd
of protesters as it entered the Crenshaw property.  There were about a
dozen people picketing at Crenshaw's, their signs reading "Meat is murder;
Human cattle still have rights; Set your table with vegetables" and, in a
show of stunning insensitivity, "Would you want your daughter to be a cow?"

   Although these demonstrations had become more common over the years,
this was the first time that cattle rights people had been active locally.
Because they had announced their intent in the local media, the county
sheriff had assigned two deputies, Stan Triplett and Wally Zehr, to see
that things didn't get out of hand and that the demonstrators didn't
interfere with the day's operations.

   Nicknamed Mutt & Jeff because of the difference in their sizes, the two
county deputies would brook no nonsense on their watch.  They were
carnivores and had little respect for what they considered to be a mewling
crowd of namby-pamby leaf-eating wankers who wanted to take away their
steak, chops and roasts.

   If people didn't want to eat flesh then well and good.  That was their
individual choice, freely made.  But, to the two deputies, that didn't
entitle folks to force their personal decision on others.  De gustibus non
est disputandum was their motto.

   While the truck came to a halt in the parking lot near the entrance to
the processing plant, a number of the protesters put down their signs and
picked up candles.  Moving between the truck and the entrance, they dropped
to their knees and began to pray.

   As Joey and his crew lowered the truck's ramp to the ground, Linda Sue
strode over to the demonstrators, fire in her eyes.  Standing in front of
one middle-aged lady, she left fly with a verbal load of buckshot.  No one
could ever accuse Linda Sue of being shy.  Her motto was do onto others
before they do onto you.

   "Anges Carlson you mealy-mouthed pharisee," she addressed the woman. 
"I've seen the order list at the Crenshaw's.  Your husband Sam's name is on
it.  Here you are today praying for this human cattle when you know
perfectly well that this weekend you'll be praying over her after she's
been brought to your supper table.  You should be ashamed of yourself and
this phonybaloney act of yours."

   Linda Sue moved to her right.  "And you Bertie Williams.  A lot of
people know what really happened to your first wife Alice out in the forest
and why.  I guess you should have been more cautious in the showing of a
certain videotape.  You haven't reformed so don't come the righteous one
now.  I'm going to be sure to tell Mary not to take up botany as a hobby.

   "All of you with you pious signs and your moral certitude are nothing
but busybodies and hypocrites.  You all may think it makes you a bigger and
better person to be here today marching and praying and calling for an end
to the raising of human cattle but there's not a one of you that doesn't
profit from it in one way or another.

   "Jason Breen, your gas station sells fuel to all the human cattle
ranchers around here; maybe they ought to take their business somewhere
else.  And you Dottie Donner, I've seen you chow down on a bull prick or
two when you thought no one was looking.  Charlie Pickels, how much more
business will your vegetable stand do if everyone stops eating meat?

   "Maybe you all better worry about the beam in your eyes before you set
out to remove the mote from mine."

   The deputies couldn't help laughing openly at the furious dressing-down
being given to the cattle rights advocates by Linda Sue.  Their
responsibilities as law enforcement officials kept them from voicing their
personal opinions but that didn't stop them from agreeing with the young
firebrand.

   But Linda Sue wasn't the only advocate aroused to a fine edge of wrath.
An attractive brunette with shoulder-length brown hair strode athletically
forward and began to berate the young rancher.

   "Are you completely bereft of any human decency," she challenged Linda
Sue.  "These aren't animals.  No matter what the law says and what's been
done to them, they are people.  They are not our chattel.  They are our
sisters and brothers.  They are not being processed, they are being
murdered.  What is being done here today is wrong.  More than wrong it is
barbarous."

   At 5' 9' Linda Sue's antagonist towered over her by a good four inches,
forcing her to look up into her face.  Linda Sue stepped back to allow her
to lower her eyes and adjust the psychic interaction between the two
females.

   "Ann," she started.  "It is Ann isn't it, I think I've seen you in
town," she asked.  The brunette nodded yes curtly.  "What you think or even
what I think doesn't matter.  The law is the law.  The courts have ruled
that this is legal; that these are cattle not people and their slaughter
and consumption is legitimate and allowed.  Besides that," she added,
"they're really pretty tasty.  You should try some."

   "Eating people, whether or not you call them cattle, is an iniquity that
stains the human soul," Ann charged.  "It is immoral, evil, inhuman and
profane.  I don't care how many men in black robes rule otherwise; not all
the court decisions ever rendered can make it less so.

   "Despite all my attempts to feel otherwise, whenever I hear anyone
arguing in favour of this abomination I feel a strong impulse to see it
tried on them.  How forcefully would you defend this practice if it was you
in the stall; you who were reduced to the status of an animal; you who
would be cruelly killed and stuck on a pole over a blazing fire; you who
would be ultimately reduced to a satisfied belch from the fat stomach of a
cannibal after a big dinner?Are you a living human being with all the
special qualities an individual possesses or are you just a slab of meat?"

   Linda Sue couldn't help laughing.  "Honey, I've got a boyfriend who
beats off some nights with visions of me rotating over an smoldering fire
spurring him to shoot sperm clear to the other side of the room.  He's
already tried a number of sample spits on me for size.  I could very well
wind up on his plate.

   "If I do, I'd take it as a compliment.  Like it or not, all of us are
potential roasts on two legs.  If I fail to satisfy Joey's cravings as a
mate; well then maybe I can satisfy his cravings for meat.  I'd be his
victuals not his victim.  See these tits," said Linda cupping her 36 Ds in
her hands.  "I take a supplement every day to grow these boobs, just like
the farm cattle do.  I'm not just doing it because I wanted bigger tits. 
If my time comes I want to be the best that I can be.

   "I've helped Joey raise his human cattle.  I've got a good eye for
stock. What are you, about 130135 pounds?  I'd say you're about a 35 or 36
B cup.  Yeh.  you're about 35-25-38.  You must work out to keep that figure
although if you don't eat meat that would explain a lot.  With a little
work and the right supplements, you could be a prime cut of human beef. 
Maybe, if you played your cards right, you'd be a milker for awhile or, if
you're talented enough you could be a breeder.

   "Of course, if we used you as breeding stock, we'd eventually wind up
selling you as stew meat.  I don't think that figure of yours would hold up
under intensive breeding.  Still even in a stew you'd be serving people in
a better fashion than you are now.  Give it some thought Ann.  We're always
looking for new cattle."

   "I really pity you Linda Sue.  If raising human cattle isn't wrong then
nothing is.  It is not too late for you to seek redemption.  Salvation can
still be yours.  Remember when a just cause reaches its flood tide,
whatever stands in the way must fall before its overwhelming power.  We are
right on this and we will prevail no matter how hard the struggle; no
matter how long the fight."

   Before Linda Sue could respond, the two deputies intervened.

   "OK folks," Jeff told the sign-wavers, "time to be moving along.  Your
permit says the protest stops when the cattle arrive.  The cattle are here
so you're going to leave."

   At heart, unlike their big-city counterparts, the local activists were
law-abiding individuals.  With a minimum of grumbling, they gathered up
their signs and candles and began to leave the property promising that
their fight for human cattle rights wasn't done with.  Ann, staring
straight at Linda Sue pledged that she hadn't seen the last of her yet.

   "No, but when I do I'll bet it's on the end of my fork covered with
Bechamel sauce," Linda Sue rebutted.

   Al Crenshaw, who had been watching the antics of the protestors with
some anger, walked over to Joey.  "Now that that's over, let's get on with
business.  We're going to do things a little differently today.  You know
that this livestock is a conversion.  The former family members wanted to
attend the slaughtering.  I hear one of those touchy-feely counsellors told
them they needed to watch to achieve `closure.'

   "Your cow may have been their daughter once but not any more.  She's
just another heifer to butcher.  I've agreed to let them watch the initial
stage of the processing but that's it.  They won't see the skinning or the
dismembering; just the actual moment of termination.  After that they're
out of here.

   "To avoid any problems we have them in a separate room with a large
window that looks out onto the processing floor.  They can see what goes on
but that can't hear anything.  They can't get out of the room to disrupt
anything and Mutt & Jeff have agreed to sit around to see to that.  Besides
the legal papers they signed before I agreed to this nonsense have pretty
severe penalties for any disturbances they cause.

   "Their being here means we can't use the usual slaughtering line.  It's
not exactly set up for spectators.  We've gone back to the old guillotine
just like they use at the fair.  I don't like it as well as our method but
it's the only humane way to slaughter your heifer and still let them
watch."

   As Al Crenshaw paused to take a breath, Joey interrupted his monologue.

   "Al, you know that Billy & his family are friends of mine.  They're not
here to cause any trouble.  They're just doing what their shrink said they
needed to do."

   "Yeah Joey, I know, I know.  But I just don't like it.  I'm running a
meat market not a therapy group.  And if it gets out that I did this for
them, everybody who has a conversion in the family is going to want the
same treatment.  I just don't like doing this."

   "No offense, but why are you doing this if you didn't want to?"

   Al shrugged, a small rueful smile on his face.  "Hell, Joey, you know
Linda Sue.  She's got a way of always getting what she wants.  And for some
reason she wanted the family here to see this.  Anyway, it's too late to
back out now.  Let's just get your cow unloaded and get this over with."

   As Joey and Al's discussion continued, Walt Gram had begun an interview
with Linda Sue.

   "Ms.," he started.

   "Please call me Linda Sue."

   "All right, Linda Sue.  You sure did tear into those cattle rights
people.  How come?  Don't they have a right to their opinion?"

   "Mr.  Gram, Joey Geryon is a credit to this community.  No one else has
ever won three blue ribbons in a row.  Most of the people, including the
ones that were here today, earn a portion of their livelihood from human
cattle ranching.  It makes me mad to see folks tear down what Joey has
done.

   "Joey can be one of the best if not the best human cattle ranchers in
the country.  He's smart and innovative; this last project will change the
way veal is raised and make it economical for the small rancher.  He's hard
working.  He's going places, big places.  I hope you won't let a few
misguided individuals steer you away from the real story --- what Joey
Geryon has and will accomplish and what it means to this county and its
people."

   "But do they have a point?  Is the conversion of humans into cattle
wrong despite what the courts have held?"

   Linda Sue sighed heavily.  "Mr.  Gram, I' m just a farm hand not a legal
scholar or a philosopher or a religious leader.  The consumption of human
flesh has been an accepted part of our culture for more than 50 years now.
If it really was wrong, wouldn't it have been stopped long before this?"

   Before Gram could reply, Joey and Al walked over.  After introductions
and a few more minutes of discussion, including Joey's declining of an
interview, the day's serious work began.

   Joey entered the transfer box to find the young cow crouching on her
heels.  For a moment he was tempted to give cow 701 one final feeding
before her rendezvous with the razor-sharp blade of the guillotine.  His
refusal to breed 701 was based on his promise to Valerie; it didn't meant
Joey wasn't interested.  But Al clearly wanted to finish this job as
quickly as possible.  Besides Linda Sue was always extra-attentive to his
needs after watching a cow turned from livestock into meat.  He could wait
another hour or so.

   Cow 701 shook herself as she exited the transfer box and felt the warm
sunlight strike her skin.  It was the first time she had been outside since
her arrival at Geryon's.  Even during her trip to the fair she was loaded
in and out of the transfer box inside the confines of the barn.  The extra
warmth felt nice.  So did the chance to stretch her muscles after so long a
time in the veal cage.

   Using hand signals, Joey started the cow walking toward the open door.
Just in case they were necessary a shorter version of his herding staff was
in a holster on his belt along with a halter and lead.  But, obeying the
commands of her master, cow 701 ambled easily toward the building.

   Moving placidly, the converted Valerie felt no sense of alarum; had no
foreshadowing of the fate that awaited her inside the building.  As human
cattle her concerns were of the most basic: food, shelter and rest.  To
701, this was a pleasant outing away from her pen.  Nothing more and
nothing less.

   Entering through the door, cow 701 stopped in the hallway to await
Joey's orders.  His hand signs told her to continue to walk forward and
through another door.

   The cow stepped across the sill to find herself in a large room.  As she
moved forward, she could hear the soft bang of a door being shut and even
feel the slight breeze caused by its closing.  Following Joey's gesture she
stopped near the centre of the room and surveyed her surroundings.

   Four walls, one with a surface that reflected the room.  A concrete
floor, railings and tracks crisscrossing the ceiling and, in the centre of
the room a large, tall object made of wood and metal.  A portion of her
once human consciousness began to stir.  There was something wrong here,
something dangerous.

   Joey examined the guillotine.  At first glance it looked like an
enlarged, slightly out of proportion exercise machine.  The narrow frame
was made of two wooden uprights about a foot apart.  Attached at a
ninety-degree angle to the uprights was a tiltable bench, almost like a
weight bench.

   At the top of the frame, eleven feet above the lunette, was the blade. A
dull grey sheen belied the razor sharpness of its 45 degree-angled edge. 
Resting on the top of the blade was another weight called the mouton which
would help gravity to power the blade downwards.  Once released, the blade
would fall at a speed of over 60 mph, humanely severing the head from the
torso in less than half a second.

   At the bottom of the frame was a lunette, two pieces of wood one on top
of another with small half circles cut out.  When the time came, 701's head
would be placed on the lower half of the lunette, chin down and facing
forward.  A small hook would be attached to her bun to assure that her neck
was properly stretched.  The top portion of the lunette would be lowered
and tightly secured.  And then the end would come swiftly.

   A plastic crate was located in front of the guillotine to receive the
detached head.  It was really nothing more than an old milk crate, the
stencilling for Teelucky's Dairy could still be seen on the side, but the
gaps in the gridwork would allow the blood to drain and make for easier
cleanup.

   As he gazed at the guillotine, Joey remembered the story of the baker,
the printer and the engineer who were scheduled to die during the French
Revolution.

   Asked whether he wanted to leave this life facing up or down, the baker
chose to go facing up telling his executioner that he wanted to die looking
towards his maker.  Just inches before the blade reached his neck, it came
to a sudden and shuddering halt.  Declaiming that god had willed the baker
to live, he was set free by the executioner.

   The printer also chose to die facing up.  And in his case, the blade
also stopped short of his neck.  Again a miracle was declared and the
printer was freed.

   Finally the engineer was lead to the guillotine.  And, as they placed
him face up in the lunette, he said to the executioner "Hey, I think I see
what the problem is here.  If you just put a little oil in these grooves."

   Involuntarily, Joey turned to look at the black glass hiding Valerie's
former family from his sight.  "What's wrong with me.  I'm out here
thinking of jokes and they're in their waiting to see the end of their
daughter's life."

   The air was getting close inside the small room.  It was only intended
to hold two people and then for only a short time with the door opening and
closing on a regular basis.  But, for the last hour and a half, the room
had been occupied by six people; Billy, his father Norm Hewitt, his mother
Nora, his Uncle John Snieth, his Aunt Janet and his older cousin Teresa
Gudman.  The overtasked ventilation fan was never designed for these
circumstances and the window overlooking the butchering floor was beginning
to fog over.

   Billy had been surprised when his dad told him that his cousin Terri
would be attending Valerie's demise.  Seven years older than he was,Terri
had returned home to recover from a nasty divorce.  Although no one was
saying so directly, Billy had pieced together enough fragments of hushed
conversation to understand that the family felt Terri was fault in the
matter.

   Terri's husband had been a stockbroker, albeit not a very good one.  He
had an uncanny sense of market timing but usually in the wrong direction.
Most stocks he gave a buy recommendation to either stalled or dropped in
value.  Stocks on his hold list did much the same.  Generally it was only
after one of Andy's "sell" recommendations was heeded by client that the
stock met or exceeded expectations.

   The losses were always small, never catastrophic and, like a blind pig
in search of an acorn, occasionally one of Andy's picks would do very well
indeed.  He was still bragging about his selection of Balboa International
which went from 12 3/4 to 96 7/8 over a six month period.  The only problem
was that Andy's clients had become so wary of his judgment that only the
three newest had reaped the reward from this pick.

   While others might have considered a career change, Andy was determined
to persevere.  He threw himself into researching companies, looking for
another Balboa International.  Hours on the telephone or the Web were
followed by days away from home on site visits.  Terri's sex life declined
like one of Andy's recommendations.

   To console herself, Billy's cousin took a lover, a normal enough
response to the situation and one that was socially acceptable these days
even in the smallest of towns.  Then she took a second, this time an older
woman.  A little more unusual but still within community standards at least
in the big city where Terri and Andy lived.

   The cessation of the marriage had come after Andy returned to the
apartment one night to find Terri entertaining four lovers at once, none of
them older than 16 and one of them a black girl.  In exchange for a hefty
settlement, she didn't contest the divorce.  Family wags said that for
Terri the wages of sin was alimony.

   A gasp from his mother redirected Billy's attention away from his cousin
and out to the floor of the slaughtering house.  Cow 701 had just arrived.

   Joey urged 701 further into the room.  She moved reluctantly toward the
instrument of her demise.  One of Al's butchers stood next to Joey.  "Put
her in the knelling position." Joey gave the order and 701 complied.

   Billy felt himself begin to stiffen.  His frequent coatings of Cow 701's
uvula with his sperm had long ago obliterated the reality of Valerie from
his mind.  That wasn't his sister down there.  It was only another cow
about to be transformed into steaks, chops and roasts.  Watching the lithe
naked animal go to her end was exciting, not sad.  Adjusting his growing
erection, Billy moved closer to the window.  Out of the corner of his eye
he could see his father and uncle doing the same.

   Reaching into a pocket on his leather apron, the butcher took out a
two-looped plastic tie, similar to those used in electrical work.  Gently
he brought 701's hands behind her back and fastened them together with the
tie.  "Walk her over and have her stand next to the table." 701 began to
tremble and Joey had to give the hand signal twice before she began to
shamble forward.

   As good as the conditioning from McCain's was, the spark of Valerie that
still resided with cow 701 was forcing its way back to consciousness.  Her
imminent demise was short circuiting all the training she had undergone. 
Like a patient emerging from deep anaesthesia, Valerie was returning to
life.  Her cowlike demeanour was fast disappearing and in its place a
frightened young girl was emerging.

   The butcher knelt next to the shaking female and fastened a second set
of loops, these made of softer cotton rope, around her ankles.  With a
small grunt, the butcher picked up the young cow and set her belly down on
the table.  He moved the table slightly; walked to the front and then
returned to make a readjustment.  Satisfied with the positioning, he placed
her neck in the bottom of the lunette, then wrapped and tightened two
leather straps around her torso, one just across the shoulders the other
below her knees.  701 was now completely immobilized and only minutes away
from drawing her final breath.

   Billy's dick was hard, so hard it hurt.  He was stuck in the room until
after the blade fell, but once it did he'd be running to the water closet
for some relief.  Looking straight forward Billy attempted to hide his
erection by getting as close to the window as possible.  He felt his cousin
move next to him as her green and white plaid skirt brushed against the
side of his arm.

   "I hope this is over with quick," he thought, not so much for Valerie's
sake but rather to keep from being embarrassed by his growing lust.  The
room, which had seemed so quiet before, now sounded like an echo chamber,
reverberating with the short, deep breaths of its occupants.

   Walking to the far end of the table, the butcher reached for a braided
nylon rope with a small hook at the end.  After fastening the hook to the
cotton bindings around the ankle, he moved to the front of the table. 
There he reached for a smaller version of the rope and hook designed to be
placed in 701's bun to fully stretch the neck.  Satisfied with the
positioning, the butcher nodded to Joey.

   "Come over to the other side and help me set the rest of the lunette in
place.  Just swing it around, that's right.  Now lower it down, easy easy.
OK there we go.  Push that bolt into place.  Yep, that's got it.  We're
ready to pop this cow now."

   Joey looked down to see moisture trickling down Valerie's cheeks.  Moved
by an uncontrollable impulse, he bent over to wipe away the tears with his
hand only to hear a soft voice praying.  Joey started to move away only to
be stopped by the sound of his name.

   "Joey, Joey, is that you?."

   He moved closer.  "I'm here Valerie."

   "Joey, say goodbye to my family for me.  Tell them I love them just like
I love you.  I know you kept your promises.  God bless you Joey.  Please
go. I don't want you to watch.  Please do this last thing for me and
leave."

   With a catch in his voice Joey started to speak only to be stopped by
Valerie's voice.  "Joey, please don't say anything.  I'm not that strong. I
don't want to start begging for my life, for our life together.  Just go
and when you think about me remember me as a girl not a cow."

   Mutely Joey bent over and gave the tear dampened cheek a final kiss. 
Stepping back he motioned the butcher over.

   "Come on, let's get this over with now," he said quietly.

   `Can't.  I'm not doing this job.  Someone else is going to pull the
lever on this cow."

   "Who," demanded Joey?

   "I don't know.  Some friend of Al's paid extra for the privilege.  Go
ahead and leave kid.  I'll stay here until they get here.  And if they're
not here in the next couple of minutes I'll go ahead and pull the lever
myself.  OK?"

   "OK," replied Joey, turning his back on guillotine as he walked
unsteadily from the room and into the parking lot.

   Billy was startled to hear what sounded like a zipper being lowered.  He
looked to his left only to see his Aunt Janet pull her husband's throbbing
rod out from his pants.  Her fist began to pump up and down on John's cock,
spreading the wetness leaking from the tip along its full length.  John's
meaty hands had spread his wife's blouse open and were now busily mauling
her breasts without any care about who would see.  Billy shook his head in
stunned disbelief.

   A noise halfway between a sob and a choke made him turn around.  It was
his mother.  She was on her knees with his father's dick deep into her
throat.  His old man's hands were clenched hard against the side of her
head as he pistoned in and out of her oral cavity.  The smell of sexual
arousal filled the room.  "And I was worried about embarrassing myself,"
thought Billy.

   Within second of Joey's departure, Linda Sue strode in to stand next to
the guillotine's lever.

   "Hello, little one," she said stroking the same cheek Joey had kissed.
`I'm glad you were able to fight your way through the conditioning.  It
makes this much more special."

   Valerie didn't reply.

   "You know I heard you ask Joey to say goodbye to your family.  But he
really won't have to.  See they're all here.  Your mom, your dad, your
brother Billy and by the way, Billy says you suck cock like an angel.  Only
fitting I guess since you'll be joining them in a moment.  I'll bet Billy's
right about you.  I know I certainly enjoyed the way you gave my cunt a
workout when I fed you.

   "Guess what?  Your Uncle John and your Aunt Janet are here too.  They
wanted to make sure they got the choicest cuts of Valerie for Sunday's
dinner.  Even better, this is such a big family occasion that they even
flew in your cousin Teresa to watch you get what's coming to you."

   Determined not to give in, and aided by her hatred of Linda Sue, Valerie
remained silent.

   "No little one, you don't have to say anything.  Having you talk at this
point would be superfluous anyhow.  Just remember you brought this on
yourself.  Joey's mine and I won't let anyone steal my property.

   Linda Sue walked around in front of Valerie.  Pulling something out of
her pocket, she held it so Valerie could see it.

   Despite her best efforts at self control, the sight of her Cannibal 4H
Fair ID badge being held in the palm of Linda Sue's hand brought deep sobs
from Valerie.

   "You were sleeping so soundly, you didn't even twitch when I lifted this
off from around you neck.  But I'm an honest person.  I just wanted to
borrow this badge for a little while.  I'm done with it now.  You can have
it back." Linda Sue placed the badge around Valerie's neck.  Then, stepping
back she placed both hands around the lethal lever.

   A squeaking noise drew Billy's attention back to the front of the room.
Terri had taken off her skirt and was bent over using it to wipe the
condensation from the window.  Her bare pussy peaked invitingly from above
two black lace stocking tops.  It took only moments for Billy to drop his
pants and thrust his throbbing penis into Terri's well-lubricated cunt. 
His hands reached around to her front as much for balance as to hold her
milkers in his palms.  Terri moaned as he sawed in and out of her cunt.

   "Well, little one.  This has been so much fun, I almost wish I didn't
have to do this.  Now that you have your badge back I could let you go but,
then again, we wouldn't want to disappoint all those hungry family members
now would we?" Linda Sue pulled firmly on the lever.

   With a silvery sibilant hiss the blade descended.  The perigee of its
transit was accompanied by a sound like a person biting into a crisp new
apple, followed closely by a soft thud as the disconnected head toppled
into the waiting receptacle.  The thud triggered an overwhelming orgasm in
Linda Sue as she dropped to her knees in delirious ecstasy, the blood from
Valerie's severed neck splashing on her like a gentle, rejuvenating spring
rain.

   Linda Sue was not the only one to reach the apex of sexual satisfaction.
The flash of the falling blade had triggered le petite morte in every male
in the room with Terri not far behind.  Only Valerie's mother and aunt
remained unsatisfied, a condition that would be quickly changed once Mutt &
Jeff unlocked the door.

   Outside in the parking lot, Joey felt an overwhelming sense of relief
when Al told him it was over.  He had walked the tight rope from end to end
without falling off.  He had kept all his promises to Valerie, as hard as
that had been to do, and still placed the interests of the Geryon Cattle
Farm first.  Now, after Sunday's dinner, he could move on to his next
project.

   Joey smiled to himself as the two joggers he had seen earlier walked
slowly by their bodies glistening with a sheen of fresh, female
perspiration.  They were still arguing about something.  Joey was intrigued
by the way a silver cross hanging from the redhead's neck bounced between
her small breasts.  Equally fascinating were the long legs of the brunette,
mentally Joey nicknamed her the stork.  "I'd like to go over and meet
them," he thought "but this has just been too long of a day.  Well, maybe
I'll see them around again sometime."