Apologies to vegans, but when we were about thirteen years old, my cousin and I killed a raccoon while practicing to become full-time mountain men. Not wanting to waste a life, we were honor bound to eat the thing, so we attempted to... uh... prepare it over a piney campfire and consume it when we deemed it "done." (It was a little reminiscent of Lord of the Flies - without the chanting.) Perhaps a more skilled cook could have produced an edible meal out of the poor critter, but we could bear no more than a few forced bites.

We also failed in our attempt to save the pelt.

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