Freddy Thompson donned his apron, fired up the grill, and began cooking hot dogs and hamburgers.
Little Annie Lifferts held out her plate for more.
"Mr. Thompson, you sure make great burgers. Where do you get your meat?"
Freddy smiled as he thought of the old barn back of the house, and of the dozens and dozens of carcasses--some animal and some not--hanging in the large concealed refrigeration room.
"Annie, you really don't want to know!"