Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Kibbles and Bits of Something Like Flesh...

He did it in the bathtub. That's where he butchered them. An ax would have been better, but the old electric carving knife was all he had.  And there were no neighbors around to hear, so that was good. A whole, big, high ceiling floor all to himself. They said it was a factory. Used to make all kinds a brassieres and girdles. But that was back when fat people still cared. Now they just bounce around like Silly Putty at a slow motion birthday party. Mus' be jelly.'cause jam don't shake like that....


This one was a political agitator. That mean she want a world what don't play favorites. Y'all can get hitched if you wanna get hitched , or jus' dance around in your underwear, if that's what you want a do. 


The 'monk' didn't take much to all that 'freedom' crap. He preferred a whole 'nother kind a livin'. Spent his nights doin' constructive shit, like stabbin' prostitutes, or crack-twistin' the heads a kissy-faced, lover-boys. Learned hisself all them useful skills at The Abbey. Not the big one over in Scotland or a little piece a Ireland, or wherever it is. This just one a the branches. Could be in Maryland, or New York, or Candyland, or up a rat's ass for all I care.


He don't dress like no monk though. This one got his own style. He wear black penny loafers, white socks, black blue jeans and any kind a shirt he like... jus' so it black. Comb his hair like Juan Peron too. You know what I mean. Like a tango dancer... Jus' like a tango dancer. But he wear these earrings, one in each ear. Left one a little silver dagger, real shiny, 'bout one and a half inches long. The other one jus' a plain cross. It made a copper, but it molded to look like wood. They dance around when he move.


'Bout four a the dogs waitin' too. They are 'specially partial to dead-bloody-damned-folks. Look at 'em fidgeting, lickin' their chops and all. But they will not set one foot inside that old bathroom. You'll see. He got 'em trained well. Could a been circus dogs, or  Nazi killer dogs, or somethin'  fancy,like that.


Got the body all portioned out, like Colonel Sanders do. Only it ain't in no cardboard tub. It in a real one. Then he sprinkle on some kibbles. You gotta give 'em some texture, after all. They like the crunchy stuff. Last thing he do is turn on the shower and moisten the food wit'  a l'il hot water. Not too much. Jus' nuf to amplify the scent. Then he step back and wait. They know what comin'. They do like this before. Big one lookin'. He want a move, but he know better. Don't wanna wind up in there too. Finally he jus' raise his hand... hold it up in the air a few seconds and snap his fingers. That the signal. That how they know. Then the 'monk' move back in a the corner, so the four hounds can politely  sashay up to that tub and begin to rip and chew...


You know, animal gonna like what you teach it to like......


Next time he want a learn 'em a little vampire....


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1 comment:

Glamr Kid said...
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