The following excerpt is based on true events that took place around 1980. What’s Up Yukon’s editorial staff would like to remind you that there are laws in the Yukon against wasting meat.

Part One was published on Jan. 29, 2015; Part Two on Feb. 26, 2015; Part Three on April 30. This is the final installment. We left the three French guys as they had just retrieved the remains of a moose that other hunters had left behind. Go to www.whatsupyukon. come to see the full story. Look for it in the “Literature” section.

When they finally arrived in Whitehorse the sun had long since gone down and it was almost pitchblack. The moon and stars became lost behind the clouded sky and it started to snow.

Claude said as he pulled into Marcel’s driveway, “We’re going to have to divide the meat up three ways. It has to hang for at least a couple of days; you know, to bleed it out, to bring out the flavour, and to tenderize it. I don’t have enough room in my place for all of it.”

Marcel shook his head. “Oh no, you can’t expect me to take some of it into my house. I’m a vegetarian, remember? No, it’s absolutely out of the question, not to mention, Alicia would have a fit.” “But she’s not even here and she won’t be back for another week, you said so yourself. Hang it for a couple of days and then I’ll come by with Jacques to pick it up. You don’t want it to go to waste do you?”

Marcel drew a deep breath and thought it over. He said with a gesture of irritation, “But I don’t even have anywhere to hang it. It’s not like I have a garage like you do.” “Well, hang it in the house then, wherever you can. A few days and it’ll be done. Come on, don’t be such a little brat about it.”

In the end Marcel gave in, though reluctantly. Lining the floor in the kitchen with newsprint he then hung up the meat from the ceiling by hooks, but there was too much of it, so he moved the remainder into the living room. The odor was everywhere. He was upset and angry with himself for allowing Claude to talk him into it. But it would only be for a few days and he would have plenty of time to clean things up before Alicia got home.

But what Marcel didn’t know was that Alicia, having wrapped things up early, was at that very moment on her way back to Whitehorse; in fact, she was almost there. She never bothered calling because she wanted to surprise him.

When Alicia arrived at the house it was already dark. Marcel was not at home; he was at the KK drinking with his buddies. Rummaging in her purse for her keys, she couldn’t seem to fi nd them. If only there was some light. Going round back she decided to try the kitchen door, which was often left unlocked. Turning the knob, to her great relief the door opened and she went inside. Exhausted from her trip, all she wanted was to kick off her shoes and take a long, hot bath.

As she was about to set her luggage on the floor, something unexpectedly hit up against her forehead, and it was wet and slimy and kind of soft. It was the strangest feeling and she didn’t know what to make of it. And there was an odd odor everywhere and it was very unpleasant. What was going on? Switching on the light, she froze on the spot; she was horrified by the gruesome scene. There was carnage all over the place — big red blocks of raw meat hanging from the ceiling, and there was blood on the fl oor. Her face turned a ghost white. She started to scream and she screamed as if the life was being taken out of her.

Neighbours came rushing out to see what all the noise was about and passersby gathered round the front yard. Someone called the police. When the police arrived, Alicia was still screaming. Taking out their guns, slowly, cautiously, starting for the house, the police were convinced some kind of terrible crime had been committed in there, maybe even a murder. They were preparing for the worst.