#282 Never Say No

#282 Never Say No

One reason Joe’s parties were always so successful was that he cooked fantastic food to be eaten after the excitement of drinking and dancing had worn down and the party goers all sat around and ate whatever dish Joe had prepared that night.

Women galore always attend Joe’s parties and tonight there were more than usual because word had gotten around that drugs would be freely supplied. Joe had spiked the pink punch with several different hallucinogenic pills, pink for women, blue for men. Blue was loaded with ecstasy. Joe wanted the men to remain mellow while he observed the results of his experiment.

A beautiful, redheaded girl about eighteen hit the punch bowl every ten minutes. Joe decided she would be the one he interviewed to see how the mixture of drugs affected her. She was at the punch bow refilling her glass when he approached her. “You’re enjoying the punch I see,” he said in a jovial manner.

“What I see and discern is true,” she blurted out in an unfeminine voice.

“What’s so unusual about that?” Joe wondered if the drug had affected her voice.

“Insanity is a ticket to hell. Where’s the bridge? I’ll jump without a bungee cord.”

She’s really stoned. “Sorry, I don’t get the drift of what you’re saying.” He took the glass from her hand, thinking she had ingested way to much punch already.

“Ha, ha,” she laughed, “they’re coming to take me away; they’re coming to take me away. Better to leap than to go where I’ll be raped, beaten, and abused, in more ways than I’m allowed to say.”

Joe didn’t like the effect his mixture had on her. “There’s an empty bed upstairs. Why don’t you go lie down for a while?”

“If I’m lucky the police will buy me a one-way ticket out of this hell, and allow me to go someplace else where I’ll be free to live out my insanity all over again.”

Geez, she’s disturbed, better get her out of here before something bad happens. “If you don’t want to go lie down and sleep it off, then I think you should leave.”

“Reality is a lie,” she screamed.

“You sound like a psycho now.”

“A psycho, I know. So store me in prison, where crazy people in our country get sent to spare the expense. They have to let me in and can’t say no.”

Joe evaluated his options – put up with her the rest of the night, or maybe send her out into the night. If he did that, there was no telling what might happen to her in the messed-up condition she was in. While he was thinking, she collapsed onto the floor. He knelt beside her and felt for a pulse in her throat, then her wrists. He put his ear to her mouth and she wasn’t breathing. Dead, in my house . . . on my drugs . . . I’ll go to jail over this. He looked around. No one paid any attention to him. He picked her up and carried her into his kitchen and laid the red-headed girl on the counter top.

He had to dispose of her body, or else he’d go to jail. Joe got two five-gallon pails, put them beside the table, and put the girl’s hands into the buckets. Then he slit her wrist and watched the blood drip into the buckets. He pushed on her chest to make the blood flow.

After about nine pints were in the buckets, he wrapped her wrists in paper towels so they wouldn’t leak when he carried her to his butcher block table.  He laid her face down in the table, got his electric saw and started at the small of her back and cut until the saw exited her stomach. Using his Kinso knife, he cut the few remaining veins and pieces of flesh that held her body together. The body split in two. The top half fell to the floor in front of the table and the bottom half behind.

Joe set the top half on the butcher block and went to work with his meat cleaver and boning knife. As he cut chunks of meat from the bone, he dropped them into his electric meat grinder that spit it out in strands into the blood bucket he set in front of it. He wanted the blood to marinate the meat. He had added garlic and onions to the buckets of blood before he started grinding.

It took about two hours to grind all her meat. Joe took the bones to the basement and dumped them into a tub he filled with acid. He rushed upstairs and prepared the feast. He made a dozen meat pies

The time came when the drugs wore off and people wandered around looking like they were done for the night. Seeing this Joe announced that dinner was ready. Two dozen remaining guests filed into the dining room where Joe had placed all the pies on the table. One pretty girl smelling the garlicky aroma said, “That smells heavenly.” She cut a small piece of pie, picked it up with her fork, and put it in her mouth. She chewed for a second before her eyes lit up.

“It’s delightful Joe, so full bodied. The meat is tender, different from anything I’ve ever eaten before, but it sure tastes good. She cut a bigger piece of pie and the other guests, seeing how she enjoyed it followed suit and cut big pieces for themselves. Hardly anyone spoke. All busied themselves, enjoying the food. Joe took a bite and his eyes grew wide with delight. She was delicious.

“What do you call this dish?” The pretty girl wanted to know.

“Fruitcake.”

“Can I get the recipe?”

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night for dinner?”

“What are you having for dinner?”

Joe smiled and licked his lips.

 

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2 Responses to #282 Never Say No

  1. Salman says:

    The mobile format of this theme is not good. The content looks ‘squished in’.

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