He doesn't shut up, of course. His cries only grow louder as he squirms around in the box. After finding a simple looking recipe, you take your laptop and the foal over to the counter by the sink. The recipe calls for peeling the foal first, so you look in the drawers for a knife. Since this is going to be messy you set the foal into the sink; the cold metal makes him chirp loudly. He writhes around desperately, looking for something warm to cling to. The very moment you take the sharp blade to his tiny body, he begins screeching as loud as his tiny lungs will let him, a stream of brown and yellow coming out of his rear end. His thrashing makes it hard to peel him, so you hold him firmly by the neck and take strokes at his torso. After fighting with him for about five minutes, he is mostly bald below his neck – and bearing no small amount of bloody cuts. You're not going to bother trying to shave his head, so you skip that step in the recipe and just proceed to washing him off with hot water. After you're satisfied that he's clean on the outside, you give him one last good squeeze over the sink to make sure he's clean on the inside, too. Nothing comes out, so you take the foal, now wheezing with agony, over to the frying pan. You add a little butter to the pan, then look at your laptop to see how long the foal is supposed to cook. When the butter starts sizzling, you toss him into the pan.
