I like a man who can handle his meat...

Rupert was an expert. He’d been doing this for years and in that time, not once single person had surpassed him in his chosen field. His hands held the knife steady; his strokes where swift and straight. The flesh peeled away from the bone in wafer thin slices and fell into his hand. With deft movements, he cradled the cold meat in his palm and placed it gently in the bun. It was a good day to be a sandwich maker.