I remember back in primary school, maybe grade 5 or so, our school decided to take the students on a field trip... to the local duck slaughter house, kek.
The whole class stood in the killing room, watching a conveyor chain of live ducks go first through an automated electric stunner, then there was a guy (his nickname was "killer") whose job it was to stand there and stab the ducks through the head as they went by on the chain. He had a distant stare and a shit eating grin the whole time.
The ducks, most still quacking, would then go into the plucker, then the waxer. Most of them stopped quacking by the time they vanished through a flap in the wall into the gutting room.
Those were the good old days. The kids were all supplied with white rubber gumboots so we wouldn't get blood and guts all over our shoes.
I worked in my uncle’s 3 chicken houses (30,000 in each house). The general public has no idea how those wings,breasts and thighs get on their plates for supper. Those are just more virtue signalling asswipes that have no grasp of reality.
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