![]() He gave the Evisceration floor a once-over, snaking the jet here and there to catch a few stray strings and wattles, the odd beak, causing the stragglers to jump and dance under the play of the hose. Stott worked the jet like an artist works a brush, teasing everything into a long bloody rope before giving it one final signature blast that propelled it down the drain with a wet swallow. With the expertise of years, Stott flicked his hose hand left and right, sending additional strings of offal skidding away under the force of the cleanser, rolling them all up neatly together as they were forced toward the center. Willie Stott moved across the slick concrete floor, sweeping the hot mixture of bleach and water back and forth, propelling stray gizzards, heads, crests, guts, and all the other poultry effluvia- collectively known as "gibs" by the line workers- toward the huge stainless-steel sink in the center of the Evisceration Area floor. ![]() Just another bucolic evening at Gro-Bain, the turkey processing plant on the outskirts of Medicine Creek, Kansas. ![]() Warning: This novel contains profanity and graphic violence. ![]()
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