F

With an orange imp latched to his head, F butchers exotic meats and preaches his anti-war, pro-blunt agenda while disturbing his customers with said Imp. He had gotten into an argument with someone because he absolutely refused to put a hairnet on the imp, contending that it didn't have any hair, and therefore did not need one. The Imp doesn't speak, but will sometimes move its limbs to accommodate whatever emotion F is feeling at the moment. F is actually pretty well respected when it comes to people who are really obsessed with foods. They praise him for having an insanely good palette and only butchering the best-tasting exotic meats and not just killing and selling animals that don't taste good just because they're weird. However, you'll have to take this with a grain of salt, because F thinks stale cheez-its are better than a well-cooked veal. He's a legend to most famous cooks, but he himself is far from famous. There would be times where his shop would receive no customers, even after a five-star cook has sung his praises. Whenever F would get a platform, he'd decry war and talk about how everyone should just chill out and smoke a doobie. In turn, vegans would decry his treatment of animals, but F more often than not wouldn't hear their criticisms either way. Not because he's purposefully avoided/ignoring them, but just because he doesn't really put himself in that space anyhow. F is an extreme adrenaline junkie who has had brushes with death multiple times, either being saved by slight luck or the Imp's insight, which is why he kills his own meat instead of having someone else do it. However, he isn't all that efficient with telling which kind of animal should be killed and will just kill an entire family of crocodiles just for trial and error. Unlike other butchers who have at least a faint kind of sympathy for the animals they kill, F does not give a single fuck. While he doesn't derive any type of pleasure from hurting and/or killing an animal, he just does not give a single fuck. Alexa, play Ain't Nuthin' But a G Thang by Doctorate Dreandre. He's extremely careless and has to hire someone else to clean up the shop most times because he's just too lazy. There would literally be blood everywhere and that motherfucker would be stepping in that shit. What the fuck is wrong with this man? On top of being careless and not having a single thought between those eyes, he's extremely changeable and even the slightest bit of influence can change his personality completely, but not for long. He's generous, but out of obligation and he usually expects something back. Doesn't slow down for anyone and is roving. Self-awareness is a concept that completely escapes this man. And despite having an iron insistence that he works alone, it's obvious that he needs someone to guide him. With a personality like his, it's surprising yet also unsurprising that he's made it in the industry for this long. Born to a popular black butch conservative commentator and an equally gay but white horticulturalist that met after being pranked into visiting a politician's abandoned warehouse, F, then unironically named Cedar Porsche Steffen, was not only their child but one of the few reasons they two didn't have a nasty divorce. The way Cedar was born didn't sit right with the horticulturalist, and the way Cedar grew up didn't sit right with the conservative commentator. Their political ideologies clashed with one another, with the horticulturist being a leftist that shifted through the "extremities'' of the wing. They had an odd way of taking care of the kid. One would have every single responsibility that a child would throw at them for one day, and the next day, the other parent would have to take complete care of him. This clashed with their schedule, so as the years went by, there were different methods, like the horticulturist taking care of Cedar in the day and the conservative commentator taking care of Cedar in the night, and other impractical ideas. Raising Cedar was like a constant competition to see who could have the most impact on the child. It ended up being the Horticulturalist. The Horticulturalist refused to put any type of pressure on Cedar to be anything and simply watched and "slightly guided" him through the motions. She didn't teach him discipline and just hoped he'd do well. The former and the fact that the conservative commentator was sending him to prestigious schools, didn't particularly mesh together well. He wasn't a prankster or poorly behaved, he simply didn't know to adjust to the environment that he'd been thrust into. One day, they had a terrible argument and Cedar completely broke down and talked his shit. This actually made the two sit down and consider everything. They pulled Cedar out of 6th grade for a year and started taking care of him together. However, he already decided to shut them out from his life. He went to school again. As he grew older, he started to become enlightened. War sucks ass, weed is pretty good, and giving a fuck is the only way to survive. It didn't take him long to start putting this into action. But, he still gave a little bit of a fuck, because now he's a Junior in high school and he doesn't know what he wants to be when he grows up. A friend had jokingly suggested that he should look up a bunch of jobs, write them all on paper, cut them out into little slips, and choose the first one that he pulls. He actually did this and came up with...you guessed it! A butcher. Around this time, he had a rap phase and decided to call himself "F" because he thought it would be something some enigmatic rapper that raps about how he accidentally caught his foreskin in a thornbush once would call himself. 6 months after this revelation, he presented his ideal job and his name to his parents. The commentator approved and the horticulturist disapproved, but allowed him to do whatever he wanted anyway. Cedar moved away at age seventeen, got his driver's license with his buddies, legally changed his name to simply "F" and started his plan to become a butcher. He skimmed by some youtube videos with an old man talking about how much butchering ruined his sex life and looked at some weird articles on the manner and started developing a new hobby: stalking the local butcher and scaring him out of his job. It took nearly two years, but it worked. You already know.

BACK