I’m watching a competition show about butchers. The contestants are all from different backgrounds and experiences, but all are obviously passionate about their craft. One butcher teared up while he explained how he goes out to farms to butcher animals while maintaining deep respect for them. Being a butcher is a calling for people who find joy in being trusted to handle the main ingredient used in a meal. This show proves that even butchering can be dramatized and gamified.

Four warriors of meat-mancy enter the arena of carcass combat to pit their skills in culinary cadaver surgery against each other in a contest of strength, dexterity, wisdom, intelligence, and a little bit of charisma (for the home audience). Each combatant announces where they hail from, their relative experience levels in meat-magic, and their desire to win the prize of 10,000 units of local currency. The home audience cheers quietly while checking their phones for any social media updates or animal videos (ironically while watching a contest that disassembles some of the same animals). The master of ceremonies speaks in a voice seems artificially deep (which is fine, considering that higher pitched snarkiness would detract from the solmenity of the contest).

I am on the edge of my seat. There are so many opportunities for puns related to meat, bones and butchering, but so much is left on the cutting room floor. The blades are sharp, but the wits not so much. No matter how you slice it, this is a contest of muscles, not brains, with much at steak. See? So much pun to be had!

As the contest moves forward, the field of meat-mancers slowly whittles down, the tension in the room thickens to the point where it can be cut by a … knife or cleaver of some sort, maybe a band saw. Finally, two filet-fighters remain to measure the cut of their giblets against the boss-battle: breaking down a beast of legend, the alligator. Cries of mirth and joy fill the arena as the contestants size up their quarry and disintegrate the solid creature into component parts. The judges of the contest seem to have all their notes in order and provide the audience with far more intelligent commentary than one would normally presume. It’s still enjoyable to watch.

In the end, the combatant who shed tears for the majesty of the slain creatures fated for the dinner plate wins it. Turns out, charisma was a valued trait after all.