An evil butcher in a pig mask holds a cleaver and moves it as he speaks "Ugh. All those years stuffing your face with ham, roast pork and bacon. Now it's my turn to carve a slice off you. Think you can outrun me!? Huh!? The pigs couldn't! And neither will you! Time to see how you taste! (Laughs)" "People call me an artist. A real craftsman with the blade. They line up for a taste of my work. But they never leave once I start carving. No rush, no fuss, just me, my clever, and a job well done. (Chuckles) So, who's next for my collection? Don't be shy, step on up. (Laughs)" "Oh, I've got my own recipe alright. Tender, juicy cuts. Takes patience. Skill. One slip, and you ruin the whole thing. Lucky for me, I never slip. Just takes one...clean...chop! (Chuckles) So who wants a taste of my work?" "See this cleaver? She is my pride and joy. Razor sharp, smooth as butter through meat. And she never misses. Every sweep, every slice, a perfect cut. (Chuckles) Care for a demonstration? Oh, I insist! After all, I've got my reputation to uphold! (Laughs)" "They say my cuts are the finest. Each one perfect. But there's an art to it you know. Each slice, each carve, has to be done with care. And when I'm through, there's nothing left but bones. Well now, who's next to feel the edge of my blade? (Laughs)"