It’s a miniature house. Made entirely of meat. I think I prefer the gingerbread house, even if that means there’s a chance a crone will catch and eat me. As long as she eats me all and doesn’t use my flesh to build a summer home, I’ll gladly accept that fate.
An architectural marvel, it’s not. The structure, composed of sausages and bacon, is held together by kebab sticks. The practicality of a meat building is questionable anyway. If built to scale, how long could a person live in it before flies and maggots were all over it like, well, flies and maggots on rotting meat? I’ll build my dream home using celery stalks, thank you.
