t’s morbidly satisfying to watch silver carp being fed to a band saw. Especially the sound. The same bug-eyed fish known for jumping into boats and ruining riverine ecosystems are loaded onto a conveyor belt, where the high-speed blade slices them in two behind the gill plate. The body flops onto the next belt, while the head drops into a bin below. Both parts of the fish are marketable; In fact, save for the blood and slime, there’s not much waste here at Two Rivers Fisheries in Kentucky. Both parts of the fish are marketable. In fact, save for the blood and slime, there’s not much waste at Two Rivers Fisheries in Kentucky. My station is the first spot on the line immediately following the saw. I’m wearing an ankle-length apron, rubber gloves, plastic sleeves, a hairnet, and a mask. Jim Burns is on my right; he’s the process foreman, and in the 10 minutes I’ve known him, he’s wavered between calling me “Greenhorn” and “Puddin’.” He rakes a headless carp off the belt and onto the stainless-steel cutting table in front of me and hands over a fillet knife, sharpened to the spine.