These solars most of the real butchery was performed by Perfect Styles, a sinewy and sullen man with fast hands and a silent tongue. The moniker was not attached for his true cutting lines, but was bestowed by his parents on account of his ability as a newborn to never cry, and sleep through the night without the aid of mother’s ruin rubbed on his tender gums. Perfect quietly grumbled about the constant blaze and the heat of the slagerhaus during the working solar. It spoiled the paranga, and he longed for the colder times under Mo Dicken’s tutelage. He also bristled over the constant presence of the Bully Boys who ate more than their fair share of the butchered meat, though Cotter did have the sense to keep the finer cuts for sale. Perfect held his tongue around Cotter, and took it out on the apprentices. He was still a slager, and thankfully Cotter did not interfere with that trade too much. He had other business interests to satisfy his greed and quest for fearful recognition.