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White Meat, Dark Meat

White Meat, Dark Meat

“When it comes to eatin’ beasts a lotta the boys come to an argument.”

“Which meat is better?”

“White or dark?”

“Now, to folks like me you’d think that sounds like an asinine thing to argue about, wouldn’t ya?”

“But some people make it their whole identity.”

“White meat is juicier! It holds onto the flavors better!”

“But dark meat is fattier and you can marinate it!”

“No matter which kinda meat you like they just won’t let ya forget it until you break down and make it all about the meat. Which flavor is better, which texture is nicer.”

“If you asked me though? I don’t give a fuck what kinda meat gets slopped onto my plate when I cut someone open. White, dark, tan, yellow.”

“Once it goes past these lips it’s all the same to me. Sure, one might taste better, but it digests all the same and comes out the other end lookin’ the same.”

“You;re one of those weird little fuckers who won’t shut his mouth about his dark meat, aren’t ya, Drexl?”

“I see you walkin’ around Arcadia with your head held high and gibberish spillin’ from your mouth while you spit bullshit about dark meat.”

“You’re dark meat, you’re a black man, you ain’t no pile of white meat sittin’ on the table! Every whore in Arcadia wants a hit of your product and a taste of your flesh because you’re dark, right?”

“Hell, I bet you’d even try and convince my boys back in the wastes that you’re dark meat, I bet some of them would even wanna believe ya because they prefer it.”

“But despite it all, Drex? Me and everyone else can see you’re made out of meat just as white as the APD. You can fight it all you want, you can deny it, you can even believe your own delusions.”

“And I’ll even let ya.”

“Wanna know why?”

“Because at the end of the day, whether I’m chewing on Caesar’s tanned hide or digging my teeth into Ramsey’s white flesh, it’s all the same to me.”

“You might not taste the same, though. Caesar’s more fatty, Ramsey is all wiry, but the feeling of a full gut is all the same once I bust out the knife and carve you up for the boy’s dinner.”

“Blood’s still red, tongue still pink, and at the end of the day you’re all going into the pot for stew.”

“But before the end, I’ll be kind enough to let you watch as I slice you up nice and slowly right next to your team and show you just how little the color of your skin or the pigment of your flesh matters.”

“Because it’s all the same to me.”

“Now why don’t you sit back and smoke some product to season the meat for me, Slim.”

“And get ready.”

“Because I’m about to ring that dinner bell.”