You Are What You Eat

"How you doin over there?"

"Yeah, I'm fine... Man, that smells good."

The cook didn't look up from his stirring. "It'll taste even better. This is just a sample, so it'll be ready in no time. I'm just gonna season it slightly—that okay?"

"Sure. I hope you don't mind coming out so late."

"Nah, not at all."

The man watched his visitor at work. "You get much business?"

"You'd be surprised. How'd you hear about me?"

"A er... friend of a friend. God, that smells terrific! I couldn't tell you when I last tasted real meat."

"You're not alone. Most of my customers tell me they'd sooner starve than buy the muck they put in the supermarkets these days. It's all that synthetic shit, you know?"

"Uh-huh. Tasted some once—it was like chewing on a tumour. Put me on the crapper for an entire weekend—the worst two days of my life." He rubbed the back of his head absently. "I don't even remember what cow-flesh tastes like."

"And bacon," the cook nodded. "Lord, I miss that."

"Pork with apple sauce."

"Stop it, man, you're killing me."

"Do you think they'll ever lift the ban?"

The cook was already shaking his head. "Hell no. It's those vegetarians—they're all over the place. And you know what really burns me? When they say it's not natural for man to eat meat! You believe that shit? Not natural!" He coughed into his sleeve. "I'm telling you, man, they'll be running the country soon, and that'll be it—we'll be up there, living in the trees and eating grass-burgers."

"I hear you, buddy." He craned his neck. "Is that ready?"

"Sure is. Just needs a pinch more seasoning and... voila! Tuck in to that."

He stared down at his plate. "Oh man. That is absolutely gorgeous."

The cook wiped his hands on a greasy apron. "I added a little something to the oil."

"Tastes great."

"So, whadya say? You want to go ahead?"

"Absolutely."

"Got the money ready?"

"Sure do. So, just out of curiosity... has anybody ever, you know, asked you to kill another person for their flesh?"

The cook clutched his apron, mid-wipe. "What? Are you havin’ a laugh or something? Do I look like a feckin’ psycho to you?"

"No, no, sorry. I was just wondering, that's all."

The cook grumbled. "Come on, it's getting late. What'll it be?"

"Mmm... I don't know. Do you recommend anything? "

"The veal is always popular."

"Veal?"

"Veal. Calf meat. Get it? Calf meat!" The cook roared with laughter.

"Yeah, that's good. That's really funny."

"Well what do you want for your money? I'm a butcher, not a comedian." This brought on more laughter.

The man nodded. "Yeah, whatever."

"Cheer up kid, for Christ's sake." The cook tossed him a wooden dowel. "Now roll up your trouser leg and bite down on that. If you thought it hurt when I cut off your finger, just wait til I stick this fucking thing into you..."

Back to: Vol 2, Issue 3