I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

But I would like to have a little fun here.

A Winter in Wisconsin

Jimmy the Mountain Man

"What'd ya bring me now, Jimmy boy?"

He proudly held up his kill in the morning sunlight and the stout woman nodded appreciatively.

Me, strong warrior. Kill savage beast. Grunt, grunt.

"A rabbit, huh?"

He nodded, a lopsided smile forming on his cold face.

"Well, good for you, Jimmy. You're getting better. They're hard to see and even harder to hit. Give it here."

The frozen Lobster Boy held out the carcass for her inspection. She peered at it, wiping her hands on her big cooking apron.

"I even drained too, like you told me."

She took the large rabbit from him.

"Good, the meat'll be better that way."

Then clearing her throat, she carefully wrapped her strong hands around the rabbit's neck and squeezed down its body like Jimmy'd seen Ma squeeze a tube of cake icing. Except she did it much faster and with much stronger motions. Jimmy heard the muffled cracking sounds of all of its ribs breaking and he flinched. She worked her way down its furry body rapidly and with expertise.

Then to Jimmy's utter shock, all the rabbit's insides came out of its backside like a really bad latrine visit. They fell to the snow at Martha's feet as Jimmy's jaw fell open on his face.

The woman had field dressed the entire rabbit without a knife in five seconds flat.

I am never making this woman angry.

She grabbed the vital organs up from the ground and lay them aside . . .

"Good eatin' there too," she muttered as much to herself as to him.

. . . for later use.

Then took Jimmy's further astonishment, she lay the rabbit on her cutting board and picked up a small, sharp knife. The gray-haired woman made a few quick, sure cuts and then peeled the hide off the rabbit like a woman discarding a pair of stockings.

Ever.

She tossed the hide down . . .

"See, Jimmy boy, just like peeling a banana."

Goodbye, bananas, Jimmy thought numbly. Oh well, always looked kinda like ding-dongs anyway.

. . . and proceeded to break down the meaty carcass.

The brown hide lay discarded in front of him and Jimmy found himself absently stroking the soft fur for comfort as he watched Martha dismember the once living, breathing creature into small bite-sized pieces and dump them into bowl of water.

She discarded the hideless head as well and the empty eyes seemed to stare at him judgmentally.

Sorry, Thumper, I really am. But I'm hungry. We're all hungry. We need some meat. You're meat.

The eyes didn't blink. But Jimmy did as Martha dumped a heaping helping of small white grains into the bowl and swished it around a bit.

"What's that?" he asked curiously.

The cook didn't look up, intent on her work.

"Salt. Helps take down the gamey flavor."

Jimmy continued to stroke the fur, looking down at it speculatively.

I bet that fur's warm. If I was smaller . . .

"Can I take this?" he asked suddenly, indicting the pelt.

Martha shrugged disinterestedly.

If it wasn't something to cook, she didn't care.

He took the hide to his trailer and laid it out on the small, worn Formica countertop. Taking off his gloves in the chill solitude of the cracker box that was his home, Jimmy carefully inspected his treasure.

Martha'd done a great job with the disemboweling and dressing. There was hardly a scrap of leftover offings still clinging to the hide.

She's either a wilderness expert or a serial killer.

He carefully scraped away a bit here and there with his field knife, but it was really quite clean. He touched it with his fused fingers.

Moist, moist. What takes out moisture? What makes me dry?

Jimmy bit his lip in concentration.

Hmmm . . .

Then he went back to Martha and, charming her with his dimpled grin, got hooked up with what he needed. And a stern directive not to let the Boss Lady know she was letting him take essential supplies.

Jimmy Darling returned to his experiment. And didn't let anybody, not even Ma, in his trailer for two whole weeks.

It woulda been weird.

Ignore the dead rabbit, ladies and gents. Just a little side project, nothing to fear.

He also took tutelage from Martha on the magic of quick dressing rabbits. He wasn't very good and had to clean his boots several times.

But he improved.

"Stop grimacing so much," she'd chide him. "You're not causing it any pain. It's dead."

She even showed him a method called the long snap. When Jimmy tried it, the rabbit wrapped around the pole at the wrong angle and the force sent the entrails once again out of its backside and this time bouncing off his chest. Shell-shocked with bile rising in his throat, Jimmy involuntarily shuddered from head to toe. And decided not to attempt it again.

Paul, however, thought it was a grand display and nearly froze his face off spurting tears of hilarity. Jimmy stalwartly ignored his jubilant friend as he stepped around the short armed man's shaking body . . .

"Oh come on, mate! Forget juggling balls, this should be your new act! You could headline alongside Meep!"

. . . leaning quivering with laughter against the table.

Yeah, I spent a while researching on Youtube how to field dress rabbits and cure their pelts. It was . . . educational to say the least. So this information is as accurate as I could write it without getting too gruesome.

Also, I know some people are against killing and eating animals and wearing their fur. I only point out they are roughing it in the wilderness and surviving off the land as much as possible. So it's acceptable.

Plus, it's story cannon, according to Jimmy.

I also gave them a different cook than Suzi so I could name her Martha like some bizarre Martha Stewart. Hee hee. Told you I wanted to have some fun. ;)

Thanks to brigid1318, the1upguy, partyperson25, and Psychopathic Kitty for your reviews :)