What’s In The Mystery Meat? A Night at Weazelworld

Originally published in the May 2023 edition of The Florida Speleologist.

I had just climbed out of the cave, drenched and squinting against the sunlight, when a voice boomed from above:

“You’ve conquered The Catacombs! What are you going to do next?”

The answer was obvious. “I’m going to Weazelworld!”

That night, legendary landscape artist Bruce J. Morgan—best known as Sleeze Weazel and the mastermind behind the Butterfly Rainforest at the Florida Museum of Natural History—was throwing an epic 75th birthday bash… and as an honored invitee, I wasn’t about to miss it. Rumor had it the festivities would stretch into the early morning, complete with a bonfire, booze, and the infamous mystery meat.

But first, there was the small matter of getting out of the cave, retrieving a forgotten key, and finding our way to a party that no GPS could track.

One Last Cave Snag

With the sun already setting, I hurried to gather my gear. I made my way with the group toward Mrs. [Cave Owner]’s house to express our thanks for allowing us to go in her cave before hitting the road.

Then came the snag—trip leader FJ suddenly realized we had left the cave gate key inside the cave we had just crawled out of. Without missing a beat, he turned around and rappelled back down—quickly, and maybe carefully—while the rest of us anxiously waited to get going.

By the time he resurfaced, the last light of day had nearly disappeared. We knocked on Mrs. [Cave Owner]’s door one last time, and as she greeted us with a warm smile, we all chimed in unison:

“Thaaank yooouu, Mmrrss. [Caavve Owwnerrr]!”

And with that, the race to Weazelworld was officially on.

Getting There is Half the Battle

Navigating to Weazelworld isn’t as simple as plugging an address into a GPS. In fact, the place is allegedly untraceable by any so-called “silly little GPS box.” Fortunately, Payton Clemons had studied the e-vite’s directions with an almost religious dedication, memorizing every turn, dip, and bend in the road. Naturally, he was appointed caravan leader, entrusted with guiding us to our destination.

As we ventured deeper into the wilderness, the vegetation thickened, and Weazelworld yard signs began popping up with increasing frequency. “Toto, I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Gainesville anymore,” I muttered to myself.

We were close.

A House Straight Out of Adventureland

Weazel’s cabin was more than just a home—it was a treasure trove of oddities. The moment we stepped inside, I felt like I had wandered into a hidden corner of Adventureland at Disney World. Artifacts from Weazel’s travels cluttered every available surface: tribal masks, aged maps, carved wooden idols, and suggestive art. It was the kind of place that made you feel like you were on the verge of some grand expedition—or maybe in the middle of one.

Inside the eclectic home of Sleeze Weazel in Gainesville, Florida, during his 75th birthday celebration. The rustic wooden interior features tribal masks, woven fish traps, carved wooden figurines, and antique books. A man in a Hawaiian shirt explores the space, adding to the mysterious and cultural ambiance of the collection. Unique artifacts and shadowed lighting create a museum-like atmosphere.

A unique display at Sleeze Weazel's house in Gainesville, Florida, during his 75th birthday celebration. The wooden shelf holds an eclectic mix of curiosities, including a taxidermy armadillo appearing to interact with a carved mermaid statue. Surrounding them are various artifacts such as stone and ceramic figurines, a doll's head, and a framed butterfly collection. The setting exudes a mysterious, collector's vibe, blending natural history with folklore and oddities.

But before I could explore too much, the distant pulse of music and the glow of laser lights drew us toward the real action.

The Mystery Meat Revealed

Arriving in the backyard, we found the party already in full swing. An overturned stock tank had been repurposed as a buffet table, laden with an array of exotic dishes and desserts—including the infamous mystery meat.

Its identity? Up for debate.

Outdoor gathering at Sleeze Weazel's 75th birthday party in Gainesville, Florida, featuring the infamous annual 'mystery meat' tradition. This year's dish is a cooked armadillo, split open and served on a grill under dim lighting. Guests are seen inspecting and preparing the unusual delicacy, surrounded by camping-style cookware, a can of beer, and snack items like Ritz crackers. The atmosphere is rustic and adventurous, reflecting the eccentric charm of Sleeze Weazel's legendary events.

Close-up of a roasted armadillo served at Sleeze Weazel's 75th birthday party in Gainesville, Florida. The cooked armadillo is split open on a grill pan, revealing tender, shredded meat and juices. A portion of its armored tail is still intact, emphasizing the uniqueness of this year's 'mystery meat' tradition. Surrounding the dish are Tostitos salsa, cheese, and other party snacks, creating a striking contrast between the exotic entrée and familiar accompaniments. This wild game feast is part of Sleeze Weazel’s legendary Gainesville gatherings.

Judging by the armadillo-shaped shell it was served in, I assumed it was, well… armadillo. But I’m no scientist, so I kept my theories to myself. Mister Weazel, on the other hand, had no reservations. He plunged his hand knuckle-deep into the ‘dillo shell, pulling out a dripping chunk of meat and relishing every bite.

Payton joined in. “Tastes like gizzard,” he mused.

And with that, the mystery remained unsolved.

A Feast of the Brave

The night’s culinary curiosities didn’t stop at armadillo-gizzards (or whatever that was). A large, melon-like fruit sat atop a tree stump, drawing our attention.

“The durian simply cannot go to waste,” Weazel declared. “Don’t be shy.”

Before I could react, he grabbed my hand and slapped a fistful of smelly durian sludge into my palm. I took a bite, but the pungent odor hit me like a brick wall. Grimacing, I passed the blob to my friend Shane, silently hoping he’d take one for the team.

Weazel’s Stories (and One Unfulfilled Promise)

As the feast continued, we gathered around to listen as Weazel regaled us with tales of his caving adventures in South America… something about an obsidian blade and ancient circumcision rituals—Oh, and face-sucking spiders. His storytelling was nothing short of mesmerizing—we hung on his every word for what felt like hours.

At one point, he even promised to submit an article to The Florida Speleologist… provided it ever met his impossibly high standards of literary excellence.

That day has yet to come.

But we’ll keep trying.