How big do you spose this thing is? It could be 2 inches or 2 feet. Well, not two feet cause there is no muscle on the cow that big, but you get my drift. Is it the wild west for elves, or humans, or Barbie dolls? Aww, who cares? I can put myself there, rappelling down the slippery drop of beefgrease. Look at me, I’m an elf in carabiners. A lean, powerful elf.
My adventurous dreams waft to these miniature landscapes. I am in charge now, and I want to see these things in beef. I want to see them in beef, and plan a summit attempt. Canyon de Chelly, the Smithsonian’s castle building, Mount Rushmore, a Mies Van de Rohe house, and more Canyon de Chelly cause you can’t have too much. Somebody get me a food stylist here! And a sherpa or two, elf-size sherpas.
To be mapped for future outbeefbound adventures.
Going to scale these heights with beef au jus in my canteen.
Picture this. In beef. 
Lean and powerful by design. Yes.
The Lunch Encounter 