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For the Love of Tasty Meats ((Shadow/Private))

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"Graacelda!" bellowed that fat whale of man named Wan Pound.

"Gets me a beef shank woulda ya!?  Custom-er wants it on tha bone."
he garbled as he flipped the switch on a bandsaw, the machine engine purrs and whines to life.

"Yeah yeah, I'll get your shank." replies Gricelda lullfully as she strolls her way to the freezer full of skinned animals ready to be cut down to more manageable portions.  She smacks her lips but restrains herself, after all none of this was for her to enjoy.  Her eyes scan the room, the lights may be dim but her natural night vision made this no an issue for her.  She spots whats labeled as "Beef Shanks" and popped open the container pack with the skinned dismembered legs of various cow.  Gris takes a particularly beefy specimen and exits the chillbox.

"Alright, got your beef shank Pounds.  Has some heft to it."
Gris causally replies

"Herm, be tha custom-er's shank, not mine.  Hand it ovar tho.  Needs to trim it." gruffs the fat man as he outstretched fatty left arm to grab the shank from Gris with his sausage-like fingers.  

Gricelda then watches as the lard man slams the chilled piece of flesh onto the table, turns a dial on the machine.  The bandsaw whirls to life, the butcher holds the two ends of the shank and glides it into the whirling bandsaw.  A terrible screeching noise is made as the razor metal bites into meat and bone, as if those the shank was screaming.

(252 Words)



Last edited by Gricelda Mee on Sat Jan 09, 2016 3:37 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : editing title to reflect it this tread is a shadow mission)

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(Is this an Open or Closed RP?)

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((Sorry, this is closed RP since since its suppose to be a Shadow Mission and I don't think I'm suppose to let people who are not are not declared (aka only me) to join.  I'll make sure to edit the title so that I don't cause any further confusion.  But hey if you wish want to try to RP with me send me a PM or say something to me in the chatbox!  I'm sure we could arrange something if you want ^_^))

Gricelda throws other chunk of unwanted meat into the meat scrap box.  Honestly, even if it was just the scraps there was still plenty of good looking bits of meat on the bones.  Gris turns her head to look to hideously obese human behind and inquires:

"So... what do you even do with all of these meat trimmings anyway?  It seems like just a waste to throw them all out."


The plump man snorts, almost like a pig, as he babblers:

"Dos just that, throu them meats out.  Nots good to eats th'are.  Nots a wasted thou.  Lets the treet dogs eats bad meats."

Gris' cocks an eyebrow, she makes her way to the flabby fat man as she continues to question him.

"So... you let the neighborhood mutts from all over eat leftover meat?  Why not give it out to the homeless or sell it at a discount?"

Pounds pivots his head so that he eyes Gricelda as she approaches him.  His squinty eyes somehow manage become squinter.

"Cause anybody get sick from eating diss-cardd meats, lee-gal see us both pay.  Nay, best lets hounds eats scrap meats.  Yush-ally fine for them an-ee ways." Mutters the grossly overweight man as he raises a bloodied cleaver.  He brings the cleaved done with a loud thud and separates one chuck of lamb from another.

"Hrmmm..."
hums Gris as she ponders something, then asks another related question to the bloated butcher.

"So... I assume that I'm not allowed to take any of the meat scraps then?"


Pounds sets his cleaver down as he stand erect, seemingly growing a couple of inches from his usual hunched posture.  He gives her what Gris assumes is a scowl as his squinter eyes squint so much... she is pretty sure they they are closed but can't help but feel that he is somehow peering through her.

"Aru you even lista-ning gal?!  Tolds ya them meats not fits for cons-slumpen!  Donna care who ya are, I an't be selling or givan tant-ted meat to any of my custom-ers!  Sells only best meats so that no one gets sick.  If not best, then throu outs so no ones gets ill.  Now gets me a beef carcass hanging on one of them hook-ars in the back.  Gonna ya useful ere."


(381 words)

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"Graaacelda!  Whas I tell you!?  Cuts around the bones!  Ya wasting prime rib with slopping cut-ting!" bellowed plump round man as he watches her a few feet away.

Gricelda grits her teeth as she tries to nimbly separate bone and cartilage from the meat and fat. as the two of them cut down the beef chunks they carved from the carcass earlier.  When she signed up for this mission, she was expecting more things more along the chopping with hatchets or cleavers.  However, she finds that she spends most of her time craving and cutting this meat with small dexterous knives.   Any bone that does need to be cut was usually handled with the bandsaw.  She thought she was handling her work just fine but flabby McFat-fat is always criticizing her her handiwork.

"I'm GETTING most of-" Gris is cut off as Pounds waddles over and pushes her away with his girth.

"I want it ALL, not MOST!"
 growls the human whale.  He mubbles something about teenagers before continuing

"More meat means more Lien.  Watch and listen now."

Gris lets out a gruff but does as the fat blob of mass says.  For such flabby hands, he is surprisingly swift and dexterous with his curved boning knife that he uses to separate flesh from bone.  While she watches, she doesn't quite understand what she is doing differently from him.  Wan Pound looks over to Gricelda and speaks in his gravely voice

"See?  Ya want to full-low the seams nd not cut too deep.  Deep cuts ruins good meat.  Now get back to it.  Ave costom-ers waiting."

Gris really wanted to protest but decided against it.  Wan returned to separating sirloin from tenderloin while Gris goes back to cutting the ribs to more manageable sizes.  She tries to take blubber blabber-mouth's advice, preforming more shallower cuts and trying to find the seams in the meat he spoke of.  As she cuts the ribs into 6-rib racks, she looks to Wan from the corner of her eye.  He finished organizing his cuts of meat and glances over to Gricelda's work.

"Hermp... better." mumbles the fat and now bloody butcher.

Well, at least he is capable of giving out compliments...

(366 words)

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Gris tosses a pair of dirtied latex gloves into the wastebasket and goes to hand hang her apron smeared in blood as evening approaches.  She removes her hairnet and lets her hair fall and her faunus ears raise.  As she turns and walks towards Wan Pound, she reflects on her time here.  Sure Pounds is fat, disgusting, and rude but... didn't treat her any different than any other person her age.  He only seems have cared that she was a teenager and never mentioned anything about her being a faunus.  So yeah he was most definitely a jerk but not a bigot she can at least respect him for that.  Plus she learned a lot about butchering.  Maybe it would be useful she ever skin her own meal out in the wilderness.  Gris ponders for a moment if wild boar and a boarbatusk has a similar anatomy.  She approaches Pounds, who was still wiping off tables with disinfectant and a towel, and announces her departure.

"Alright Pounds, I'm leaving now.  Anything you got to say before we bid farewell?"


Blubber boy grunts, then then cranes his head to face her.

"Ya not the worst I had tak-ens under my arms.  Now gets out ere."


Gris snorts a single laugh, then spins on her heel as she makes an exit.  

"Haa!  Take care now Pounds."

As she leaves, she spots a crinkled old photograph of a lovely woman and a man in a butcher apron.  Her only thought, Pounds really seemed to have let himself go.  She then departs and makes her way to Syne Academy, while she may have not have came with any free meat as she hoped but the experience was... well it was something at least.  At least she gets paid for this.

(296 words)
(Shadow Mission Complete: 1295 total word count)

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