There is nothing I love more in this world than a rare steak. It is the only food I will spend over $150 on in a single meal. It's become a birthday ritual for me. I order a high quality rare steak at this classy joint about five miles from my house. They cook it just right. The juices in the blood make for a spiritual experience. It's like every mouthful places me in a vision quest where I share the eyes of a hunter spirit. I've tracked down my prey - some lone hiker - and I've clawed him half to death. As he crawls away, I just watch, with the anticipation of the kill and subsequent feast filling me with euphoria. I kneel down in the snow and just plug into his neck like mother's milk as he starts sobbing. At first I start slow, but the excitement gets to me and I just start ripping and growling. Before I know it, my face is covered in his blood and the poor guy is dead. I want his memory to live on, so I begin to undress him and wear his clothes. Now in some romantic way, I've become him. He should be happy. I will use him to find my next meal.

This is why you should eat rare steaks.