LaDonna Smith: As I step on a mass of meat on the sidewalk, it sucks me right into it, like quicksand! I struggle to break through only to be seriously sinking. Before I know it, I am like treading water, but it is really wine! I am getting a little tipsy from the bouquet, and certainly a few accidental gulps. Delirium consumes me. I wake up laughing at my now pink clothing, and join the circus of fashion, but the runway becomes another fine slab of red meat. Exercise repeated. I credit my predilection to red wine on the sudden appearance of meat and my inability to escape its inevitable hold on me. I manage its avoidance by unforeseen appearance of nut crackers and indulgence in blue beer! Life is marvelous!
Richard Smiley: It is a boon. I pick up the pulsating mass of meat and eat it raw, because that is how I and the citizens of this city receive their sustenance: from the masses of meat that randomly fall from the sky only along this one street.
Tim White: I cry with joy and recognition. The meat is my soul. I pick it up, open my shirt, and shove it back into the hole where it belongs.
Tori Lion: It turns out that the fleshly lump is the beginning of a long, slimy esophagus that latches onto my foot, slurps up my entire body, and then deposits (or, perhaps, defecates) me in a labyrinth of pretzel-shaped catacombs lying underneath Toronto.
Brett Petersen: The mass of meat splinters into an army of teratoma soldiers and they jump into everybody’s mouths and convert their cells into cancerous matter. Before long, the whole world becomes cancer and in fact, planet earth itself becomes one giant teratoma.