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Friday, December 21, 2007

Before bludging at RALPH, NED CUSACK worked in a slaughterhouse. We sent the baa-stard back for a bloody trip down memory lane.

The first victim emerges from the darkness of the race. Confused, she looks up at me as I screw two prongs into the nose of the stun gun. Her head moves towards the sound of a knife being sharpened. She watches the metal blade glide up and down the steel. Her body suddenly jolts and stiffens as I drive the prongs of the stunner through her skull. Then 300 volts pulse through her head and body, knocking her out faster than a Danny Green king hit.

The shackler grabs the stiff body and pulls it down along a surgical steel tray to the sticker, who quickly runs his knife through the woolly bleater’s throat, killing her.

While blood pours from her arteries, the ewe is quickly secured by the hind legs in a steel shackle. Dying nerves cause the body to twitch and buck as the chain-driven shackle takes her out toward the slaughter floor. The knocking and sticking operation takes less than 10 seconds. In an hour they send 385 of the fluffy bastards to sheep heaven, 13 hours a day, five days a week. It’s 4:45am on Monday for the first shift. Only 25,024 to go. Welcome to the slaughterhouse.

Would you kill an animal if you were homeless? Leave your comment below