Board Thread:What Would You Do?/@comment-36855838-20190120022703

All day, every day.

Working at the butchery.

Every hour, on the dot.

Meat will pass for you to clean.

Flesh from bone, to each his own.

Working 'round the clock.

And when it's done, the night's begun.

And you give the wife your-

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"Honey, You'll be late for work at the meat factory!"

"Alright, MOM!"

You're a Man who's lived His life alone, except for His loving Mother and Father, for twenty years, now.

When the monsters became women, not much changed in your remote town, the outside world had long been a place only visited in search of new blood to thin out the mountain seclusion impurity.

But as time marched on, technology improved, and now, eighteen centuries after the great shift, your village is one of many in these mountains to have been connected to a large empire which reaches across vast deserts, swamps, grasslands, and even to the distant sea.

Like other men in your village, you work at the factory just up the street, stripping meat from newly cooked carcasses, from fowl, to pork, to beef, the meat is pulled, packaged, and stored for transport to the nearby desert.

In the heat of the desert day, over smoking fires, the meat is dried and then packaged again, to be sent far and wide for trade, and crisis relief efforts.

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Of late, you've been making eyes with a lovely gal at the factory, who works at your conveyor, for three months now.

And again, today, she seems to be sending flirtacious looks.

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What will you do? 