A supermarket. Shoppers are pushing their carts up and down the aisles. Fade to a fresh meat counter. Close in on a butcher (dog).

Butcher: Hello. I am a butcher. That means I sell various cuts of meat. Some in raw, shapeless blobs, others wrapped and ready to be sold. (starting to get excited) Red meat. White meat. Poultry. Game. (collects himself) I do apologize, but the truth is, I love meat. All kinds of it. I have no idea why. (getting worked up again) Maybe it's the mouth-watering smell. Maybe it's the savory taste. Maybe it's the fact that I'm (beat) a carnivore. 

He gets up on the counter and starts to sing.

Butcher: (sings to piano accompaniment) I'd eat American and Canadian bacon for breakfast.
My homemade lunchbox has sandwiches of ham.
Genoa and German salami
are just so very umami,
And there's nothing like a serving of rack-of-lamb. 

Five nude singers (female, various carnivorous species) come on. A Welsh harpist joins them.

All: We can't ignore the savory taste of sirloin
Or a smoking hot scrumptious plate of veal
Whatever kind of meat
It's a taste that can't be beat
Because we all know what really makes the meal.
Butcher: You can keep your vegan ways
Besides, it's only just a phase.
All: Because we all know it's meat that makes the meal.

END