This is the one in which we are milking the worms, but not of milk, but of crud and animal parts, the things it has eaten, like sticking our finger down their throats to induce vomiting, except we are really are milking are milking, squeezing it out of them like a tube of toothpaste. The Bangladeshi man encourages us on. Promises good meat. The skin rolls like a treadmill and we try not to be consumed by these worms as they rampage. These firehose sized worms... And then we eat. Thee slices are battered and fried and those of us with the Western palate do not take to the indulgence too well, despite the oversell. We have, perhaps, seen too much. We know where this food has been and that is more than our stomachs will allow.
