Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men - By Regan Wolfrom Page 0,56
a vegan,” I said. “No animal products of any kind.”
“Really?” Eleanor poked Lima in the stomach. “Wool sweater... silk scarf... fancy cow-skin shoes. Someone here is a pretty shit-awful vegan.”
“I don’t eat dairy,” Lima said.
“We’re making the right choice here,” Eleanor said.
I heard a jarring noise as the machinery powered on.
“We’re ready,” one of the other vegans said. “Put one on the belt.”
Eleanor looked over to Lima. “Take off your clothes,” she said.
Lima gave out a whimper but then she did as she was told.
Once she was naked, Eleanor and one of her companions lifted Lima up and threw her onto the conveyor belt. The belt wasn’t moving at that point, and Lima just laid there, motionless.
“She’s too big for the cooker,” Eleanor said. “We’ll need to hash her.”
“I brought something for that,” one of the other vegans said. She brought over a large silver cleaver and traded it to Eleanor for the handgun.
“You -- you’re kidding,” Lima said from her place on the belt.
And then Eleanor took the first swing.
I didn’t watch.
Lima didn’t say anything else.
After less than a minute of cutting I heard the conveyor belt start to run.
“This is what’s coming to you,” Eleanor said to me. “I’m going to hash you up, and then we’ll steam cook you until you’re just right...” She held up her fingers, as if she were counting steps.
“Then we’ll press the oil out of you, and dry what’s left of you out before we grind you up and stuff you into fertilizer bags. There’ll be bits of you in community gardens all over New England.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I said. “Lima didn’t deserve any of this.”
“You can ask her about it once she’s all bagged up.” She started to giggle. “Then it’s your turn.”
I made the decision quickly; I was better off with a couple of bullets in my hide than chopped up on a conveyor belt. I gave Eleanor a shove and turned to run, but I had two vegans clinging onto me within five seconds.
They held me as Eleanor took out her duct tape.
“You don’t want that stuff in your plant food,” I said. “Think of all that adhesive.”
“It’s no worse than whatever poisons you use in that chemical-sprayed hair of yours,” Eleanor said.
I glanced over at her filthy blond locks. “I’m well aware of how much you girls hate shampoo.”
They taped over my mouth before I could ask why they also seemed to hate soap.
And then I waited as the remains of Lima were pressed and ground.
As promised, Eleanor showed me a bag of Lima-meal. It looked like a cross between cremation ash and cinnamon. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t curious about the taste.
“Now we’ll take off your clothes,” Eleanor said, holding up the cleaver. “I hope the cutting isn’t too messy.”
“I hope you hack off one of your fingers,” I tried to say, but with the tape over my mouth I’m not sure she got it.
She started with my belt, gingerly cutting through the leather.
I heard a door open, and then came a familiar voice.
“FDA!” Michael called out. “Drop your weapons!” He was wearing body armor and toting some kind of semi-automatic rifle.
Two of the vegans were quick to surrender, putting their hands in the air. But the girl right next to Eleanor lifted up the handgun to take aim.
The gunshots came, two of them, and the armed vegan fell to the ground.
Eleanor brought the cleaver up to my neck. “I’ll slice her open,” she said.
“I don’t care,” Michael said. “She’s a serial killer, you know.”
Eleanor looked surprised. “You know about her?”
“That’s why I’m here... to bring her to justice.”
She kept the blade against my skin. “So what about me?” she asked. “What happens to the rest of us?”
“Put down the meat cleaver... I’ll run your IDs and as long as you’re clean you can go. Then the story will be one vegan vigilante, acting alone.”
Eleanor seemed to think it over... then she lowered her arm.
“Everyone on the ground,” Michael said. “Hands on your heads.”
The vegans complied; I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to do the same, so I just stayed as I was, my wrists taped behind me and a couple of strips over my mouth.
He took out three sets of plasticuffs and restrained all three vegans before coming over and ripping off my tape.
“Are you okay, Marie-Claire?” he asked.
“I’m alright,” I said. “Are you really with the Food and Drug Administration?”