Orc meat salesman

Furin and Bia went down the busy market, trying to find something to spend their few coins on. As street kids, they were pretty hungry.

"O hey, there's Batterbog," Bia said, tugging his sleeve (gently, lest it ripped.) They moved over, and the orc's face lit up to see them.

"Meat!!" he said. "See? All kinds of meat, fresh meat!"

"You sure it's meat?"

"123% garentee!" the orc boomed. "or is it 50% as full? I can't tell--I never did math."

"But is it meat...?"

"Oh, THAT we're certain about." The orc nodded.

"Is it fresh?" Furin challenged.

"Quite," the orc grunted. "Open and see for yourself."

Bia carefully, gingerly opened a packet. A live fly zoomed out.

"See?" Batterbog said proudly. "So fresh the flies are still about."

"What kind of meat it is?" Furin asked hesitently.

Batterbog frowned, confused, then turned over his shoulder. "Oi zog! What kind of meat is it?"

A cry came from behind the stand. "What?"

Batterbog shrugged. "Guess you're on your own."