Corporate fajitas. I mean, they're supposed to be made of cheap skirt steak, but this stuff is like inner tubes. What strange sort of hell-cattle gave its unnatural life that I might end up with dental damage trying to take a bite of its cooked carcass? My jaws hurt. Man, if this food wasn't free, I'd seriously consider not eating it.

This is what we feed our executives? Damn, I hope they have stronger teeth than I do. Perhaps its so they stay in good fighting condition--"if you can eat this fajita, we know you will destroy our competition. Go forth, Dan from Marketing, and tear out the enemy's jugular. We know you can do it--you've eaten...those fajitas."

"Mi wiw oo my eth, fuh."

"That's the spirit, Dan from Marketing."

Corporate fajitas--both the carrot, and the stick, of upper management.

[goes back to gnawing a gazelle's femur, it's softer.]