A man slaughtered a big cow, lit the grill, and with a proud smile told his daughter, “Daughter, call our friends and neighbours to eat with us… let us feast!”
Excited, the daughter rushed out into the street. But instead of simply knocking on doors like a normal person, she whipped out her phone, stood on the corner dramatically, and shouted, “Come one, come all! Free meat at our house! Cow party! Bring plates!”
Now, in the age of social media, everything is instant. So when her cousin filmed her enthusiastic announcement and posted it online with the caption #MegaMeatFeast, it didn’t take long before things escalated.
Within 30 minutes, the front yard was full of people. Not just neighbours—total strangers showed up. One guy arrived holding a fork, another came with a camping chair, and someone even brought their own barbecue sauce. A guy on a motorbike rolled up and said, “Is this the place with the cow buffet?”
The father peeked out the window, panicked. “Daughter… what did you do?”
“I called the neighbours!” she said proudly.
“These people are from three cities over!”
The grill was going, but so was the chaos. A man was live-streaming it. Another asked, “Is this beef grass-fed?” Someone else asked if there would be dessert. The cow hadn’t even finished sizzling, and someone tried to form a queue system.
As plates were dished out faster than the meat could cook, the father realized something important: he had underestimated both the power of his daughter and the hunger of humanity.
Eventually, he stood on a crate and shouted, “No more meat! It’s finished! And please return the salt shaker!”
The crowd dispersed slowly, leaving behind paper plates, two lawn chairs, and someone’s flip-flop. The man sat down next to the empty grill, exhausted.
His daughter sat beside him, still grinning. “So… next time should I just make a WhatsApp group?”
He sighed. “Next time, we’re serving soup. Quietly.”
