Reuben Goldblum

MEAT-THING is a absurdist comedy about Jo, a quiet butcher whose routine unravels when a slab of meat begins to speak to her. As the meat—strangely alive and deeply self-aware—forces Jo to confront questions of existence, shame, and meaning, she spirals through a city that continues without noticing. Haunted but unwilling to accept what’s happening, Jo carries the talking flesh to a friend’s ramen shop, where, under the weight of his own denial, he gives it up. The meat is chopped and served without protest. A deadpan exploration of guilt, disconnection, and the absurd comfort of pretending nothing’s wrong.

MEAT-THING is a absurdist comedy about Jo, a quiet butcher whose routine unravels when a slab of meat begins to speak to her. As the meat—strangely alive and deeply self-aware—forces Jo to confront questions of existence, shame, and meaning, she spirals through a city that continues without noticing. Haunted but unwilling to accept what’s happening, Jo carries the talking flesh to a friend’s ramen shop, where, under the weight of his own denial, he gives it up. The meat is chopped and served without protest. A deadpan exploration of guilt, disconnection, and the absurd comfort of pretending nothing’s wrong.

MEAT-THING is a absurdist comedy about Jo, a quiet butcher whose routine unravels when a slab of meat begins to speak to her. As the meat—strangely alive and deeply self-aware—forces Jo to confront questions of existence, shame, and meaning, she spirals through a city that continues without noticing. Haunted but unwilling to accept what’s happening, Jo carries the talking flesh to a friend’s ramen shop, where, under the weight of his own denial, he gives it up. The meat is chopped and served without protest. A deadpan exploration of guilt, disconnection, and the absurd comfort of pretending nothing’s wrong.