“But my country’s having a beef shortage. Please! I’ll pay top dollar.”
“Sir, again, I’m sorry. Our meat is not available for public sale. At any price.”
“Why? What’s so special about it?”
Stan glanced out his office window. Below him sat three rows of obese men & women, twelve each. All sitting naked in armchairs. Hands and legs limp. Feeding tubes hanging down from the ceiling, plugged into their necks. Mouths agape. Each of them staring empty-eyed at their own TV.
“Let’s just say you wouldn’t understand. Goodbye.”