by Garrick Sherman
I do feel bad for this chicken. It might surprise you to hear that I recognize him. It’s true. Once, this chicken was Alexander the Great – the famous conqueror from all those centuries past.
Here he is: Alexander III of Macedon, a legend among men, sitting in my slaughter house. And me, the butcher, I’m supposed to kill the poor king! I mean, granted, he wasn’t always a powerful emperor. In one life, Alex here was a regular old cockroach. But that doesn’t erase the fact he was also a man who nearly conquered the known world. And now he’s sitting in front of me, helpless and clucking, with my knife poised over his neck.
I wish I could talk to him – ask him questions, shake his hand. But he’s not a man, he’s a chicken, and they’re not known for their conversational skills.
Sorry Alex – Mr. Great, sir. Nothing personal, but I’ve got my job to do.