The Breath of Life

I think that's a talisman in Turok 2: Seeds of Evil. That is a "chicken soup for Kev's soul" game. But it is not convenient.


Anyways, I was thinking the other day...things die when they don't have air. I had been thinking of that for a while. These intensely difficult equations and theories in my head just bounce around splattering into each other, you know. But I digress: things can be drowned...things can be...strangled. I think you know where this post is going, so if you're a coward, and a sissy, don't read on. But it really isn't that bad. You... pervert.


We had a goat to slaughter. Yeah, you definitely know where I'm going now. We dislike the notion of cutting its neck with a knife. It's too...weird, at least right now. I told my dad, "Why don't we just strangle it?" and he was like, "Kev, that is just weird. You'd have to be a real sicko to do that."


Long story short, I strangled a goat today "with my bare hands," as my parents are already fond of saying. It was a lot easier than I thought it'd be, but it was pretty...well, you know, with the thrashing, the gasping for air, the struggling with every last ounce of power for its life. It was raging against me with all of its will and strength, but I am a human and thus have the superiority.

Now, it gets worse.

Once it was, ah, out of it, to make sure that it didn't come back to life, I took ol' stabby and, well, let's say it doesn't have 5 o'clock shadow anymore, if you understand Splinter Cell humor. If you don't understand Splinter Cell humor, I think you still know what I did. Someone had to do it. Man. Moment. Baby goat.


Later on, I got to follow that old kingly decree, "Off with his head!"

It sure is surprising how soft the spine at the neck is.




This has been a dark humor post by Kev.