The butcher, a stout man named Silas with flour-dusted forearms, grinned. He knew exactly what Arthur meant. He disappeared into the walk-in freezer and emerged carrying a massive, three-bone slab of . It was a heavy, daunting rectangle of deep red meat and thick white fat.
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Arthur just smiled, handed over a bone that weighed nearly two pounds on its own, and took the first bite. It wasn't just a meal; it was the successful conclusion of a long-planned heist. The butcher, a stout man named Silas with