If This Carnival Cruise Ship Capsizes and We End Up on a Deserted Island, I Promise Not to Eat You
This is going to be an excellent vacation, and I for one am excited. I love a good cruise, and you and I are going to have such a good time.
As we embark on this wonderful excursion, I’d like to get something out of the way because I’ve found that it’s often better to say things directly so as to avoid any misunderstanding either now or in the future: If this Carnival cruise ship capsizes and we end up on a deserted island, I promise not to eat you.
I know you’re familiar with my vegan lifestyle, and when I devoted my life to vegan principles several years ago, I did not make an exception for human flesh in the event that I end up one of a few shipwrecked survivors on some uncharted desert island.
I also have not spent any more time thinking about the taste of human flesh and how best to prepare it than the average person. It is with me as with most everyone else only ever a fleeting thought, and I would never let it impede too much upon my productivity at work.
In other words, I am most definitely not some twisted sicko.
Rather, I’m just someone who isn’t afraid to admit that they occasionally entertain certain thoughts while watching reruns of Top Chef with a glass of 2005 Sauvignon Blanc, which I imagine would pair best with a thinly sliced and lightly braised calf from a healthy 21-year-old Columbian runaway.
The point is that you are far less likely to be eaten while stranded on a desert island with me than you would be with anyone else, as I specifically undertook that solemn oath to conform to a strictly vegan diet in part to prevent myself from further entertaining the idea of one day curing, sauteing, and thereafter consuming my neighbor’s flesh, and that’s far more than you can say of anyone else onboard this Carnival cruise ship!
And I say that in spite of the fact that an expertly dried and salted bicep from that Norwegian steward who helped us with our bags would undoubtedly far exceed in taste, quality, and texture any of the offerings at the third-rate feeding trough they try to pass off as a “buffet.”
Furthermore, I welcome you to speak with any of my closest friends and family in order to allay any lingering doubts you may have as to the veracity of my strict no-human-flesh diet regimen.
They will tell you how vehemently and frequently I denounce any and all suggestion of human flesh consumption, never missing an opportunity to affirm to listening parties that I have never, and will never succumb to the overwhelming temptation to butcher another human being and broil their carcass in a seasonal vegetable stew with a side of wild rice and a small pecan salad.
That is absolutely off the table (no pun intended), and I will often interject this proclamation into even the most casual conversations about sports, weather, and politics because I choose not to miss any opportunity to make it clear how remote is the possibility that I would ever indulge in the consumption of another human being, regardless of how well it was seasoned or how expertly it was prepared.
In sum: I have put those impulses squarely into my past, and there is nothing, not even the promise of a succulent, slow-cooked inner thigh simmered in fresh coconut oil and lightly seasoned with wild herbs that could ever bring me to compromise my vegan principles and finally satisfy once and for all that nagging question as to the taste of another human being’s slow-cooked flesh.
With that out of the way, let us enjoy this Carnival cruise, and let’s not waste another thought on the possibility of my ever so much as even thinking about eating you.
Yours,
