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Don Miles | Adam Kolanski

The economy had been very bad and my brother Dave and I were glad to have these jobs even though the work was hard, smelly and dirty. Working on board a fillet processing ship you could earn enough to get through the whole year with plenty left over. So we signed on and headed out.

The trip out was uneventful and when we got there we went right to work. We do our harvesting at one of many farms that we have been using for years. Dave and I worked below deck so we didn’t get to see much scenery but it didn’t matter. These slimy, smelly little bastards weren’t why we were here. It was all about profit. So we bore down and worked hard.

The process starts when our catch is captured but we never see that. All we see is their bodies coming down the line. The first guys on the line sort them into parallel trays that head toward the processing area. Then they continue down the line and are gutted by robots. They slice open the abdomen so that all the guts fall right out. A device shaped like a fork goes into the chest cavity and removes the lungs. At this point a chemical is pumped into their necks to keep them conscious in order to keep the meat fresh. They want them to live right until the last moment. Next the bones are removed by a very complex machine called the “Filletmax 2112” which removes the bones quickly in just a few seconds. Something strange is the way they open and close their mouths in apparent agony while the process is taking place. We have been told that they are such a primitive life form that they don’t feel pain the way you and I do. I have my doubts. They sure look unhappy and sure seem to understand pain. Their expressions seem so…horrified is the only word that fits. I wonder if any deep thoughts pass through their primordial brains. I hope not. That could ruin eating them for me. I have been known to eat four sometimes five at a time. Even though some of our catch are kept alive to be eaten alive bones and all, I prefer the fillets.

Finally, the heads are removed by Dave and me and the bodies are flash frozen for freshness for the return trip. On our way back we played games and drank till we couldn’t stand. I still wonder how intelligent our catch really is and whether they feel pain or not. They do certainly have some intelligence. After all what we call farm planet 31598 they call the “Earth”. We call them zirrillium but apparently they refer to themselves as human ‘beings’. Strange. Well, in any case, I simply call them yummy.

About Don Miles

Don Miles is a writer and drummer from Detroit. He is interested in the paranormal and UFOs. Find out more about him and his work, both short and long, on his blog.

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