“My uncle was murdered. He found veganism, but it’s not just a diet, it’s a lifestyle, and he became very troubled by the ethics of the fast food industry. One day after 10 shots of vodka—it’s corn, relax— he busted into a McDonald’s and started screaming at the burger guy (this was all caught on camera and witnessed by that old man who always eats Big Macs alone at the corner table).
Burger guy flicked hot grease at my uncle, who then grabbed a sack of patties and clubbed the young employee in the nutsack, screaming, “NOT OUR FUCKING COWS!”
Burger guy died on the spot.
The cops came, arrested my uncle, and locked him up in one of those temporary cells in the county jail. They called the first person in his phonebook, who happened to be the monk who introduced him to veganism.
The monk walked silently to the jail, found Uncle’s cell, and looked him straight in the eye. They meditated on compassion for 5 minutes. While my uncle’s eyes were still closed, the monk shot a dart right into his jugular, put his hands together, bowed, and murmured ‘Namaste.’
It’s been a half a year since Uncle Harold passed, and I live every day crippled with secondhand embarrassment. I’ve eaten nothing but Big Macs since.”