Welcome to my unique delicatessen. Here you will find all the fine meats man has to offer. Take a number, take a seat. My customers are many; my product elite. Here, try one of our lovely free samples. Close your eyes and taste our meat. Do you like savory, smoky, or sweet? 'Cause we have anything you'd like to eat. What's in this tasty substance? (You ask) You've never tried anything like this. (You say) Well our recipes will go with me to the grave but I will share the source of meat if you insist. 100% "Grade A Certified" human flesh: so fresh. Seasoned and dressed. A variety of different cuts and specialty products. No one can match our spread! Come in. Bon Apetit! Don't burden your mind with whom you consume. Just focus on the tender bits of the exhumed. Sure, this flank was from a father and this rib once belonged to a young daughter. But when their juicy cured sauces touch tongue you will surely approve of their slaughter. Welcome to my unique delicatessen. Here you will find all the fine meats man has to offer. Here, try one of our lovely free samples. Close your eyes and taste our meat. Do you like savory, smoky, or sweet? 'Cause we have anything you'd like to eat. You don't want to hear our specials? You're just looking for your missing nephew? Well let me take you to the back because I think he might be on our secret menu. 100% "Grade A Certified" human flesh: so fresh. Seasoned and dressed. A variety of different cuts and specialty products. No one can touch our spread. Welcome to my unique delicatessen. Here you will find all the fine meats man has to offer.

Puddles dress the cold floor: sticky, cluttered, dark and murky. Ah. Feces, blood, and urine. Red, brown, black and yellow decorates this room of memory. Ah. Colors of the suffering. Foreskin, your skin, I skin every inch of your pale covering. Oh. Why won't you say her name? Surgical precision in each cut and each incision. Oh. I won't let you die here. A tiny scalpel slides behind each reddened (and) ruined eye to sever the optic nerve. Your world is black now, just like mine.165 decibels; I unload my trusted 12-gauge shotgun six inches from each ear. You will never hear again. Don't you ever doubt a father's resolution. Look me in the eye and tell me her name.  Forceps grasp your tongue, while sterile scissors cut it out. Blood will be the final flavor you'll ever taste. And now on to the last; prolonged repeat exposure to toxic chemicals removes your sense of smell. Deprivation of the five human senses is all that you'll ever know. Until the day you die, you'll lack complete perception. Ah. Your hell awaits. Say her name.

Cowering in the far corner of a long forgotten home, I stand paralyzed with fear, realizing (my) dire circumstance. Unknown script and bloody handprints dress the crumbling walls. I know where I am; this hovel hides an earthly hell. In the darkness all around me grows a shadowed mass. Legends warned of her vile power, as centuries have passed. Swiftly she approached with feet that never touched the floor. With otherworldly force she raised and held me in the air. Her phantom arm reached through my chest and tightly grasped my spine. Broken. Severed. Mutilated My body goes limp and my torso bends backwards as my vertebrae shatter like glass. The witch extracts teeth and cuts out my tongue; then takes a lock of hair right out of my skull. As my blood is now spreading throughout the room, the witch taps into my fading mind. She tells me the ritual won’t be complete without the blood of my two closest friends. I won’t let her. She says she will use my voice to call out to them. But I won’t let her. I would never. Deep inside this spectral lodging, nestled in the wilderness, I sought answers to void questions I should not have asked. Legends of occultist events drew my fly to darkened flame. Curiosity has led me to an early grave. But this grave will be mine alone

General anesthesia to induce medical unconsciousness. Guarantee loss of all protective reflexes. Dilation of the lower part of the parturient uterus. Open the cervix for me! Earn their trust through competence shown again and again over time. In tender moments of desolation no one suspects my paternal crime. Successful surgical procedures once fulfilled my need for self-actualization. But award and altruistic pursuits rung hollow in my life’s sunset. Oh how truly little I mean; to them I’m but a once-a-year pain. But to me they supply the precious meaning of life: a chance at parenthood to the countless condemned! Pull them out in pieces, nearly unrecognizable. But each and every pile of fetal flesh is a son or daughter I will love and caress! I am the father to the unborn descendants of the innocent and desperate convalescents. Now a family is formed. They are their father’s sons. They are their father’s sons. Oh! How their tiny underdeveloped cold hands warm my heart as I exhibit them on stands. They’re so cute at this age! They are their father’s sons. They are their father’s sons. Look at my children, my dead kid collection. Suspended in- formaldehyde solvent. (Formaldehyde solvent). Preserving their flesh. Floor to the ceiling, there’s 46 children in bottles. Each has a name that I use when I talk to my children. Oh! How adoption has fulfilled me, but a biological need still exists to establish my own bloodline! I will inseminate the most trusting of my dearest patients. Fill ‘em up during routine procedures and in a month they’ll come back with my kids. Pull them out in pieces, nearly unrecognizable. But each and every pile of fetal flesh is a son or daughter I will love and caress. I am the father to the unborn descendants of the innocent and desperate convalescents. Now a family is formed. They are their father’s sons. They are their father’s sons. Oh! How their tiny underdeveloped cold hands warm my heart as I exhibit them on stands. They’re so cute at this age! They are their father’s sons. They are their father’s sons.

Every product of my brief existence deserves to be held in esteem. When life is so fleeting, why would you discard anything? Where do you draw the line? What do you dispose of? What tangible remnants of your being do you deem worthy to dismiss? I throw away nothing!  Zero, zip, zilch. Everything stays. Fingernails; fallen hair; dead flakes of skin that I scrape off at a whim. These are the tokens of my humble life. These are the trophies that I leave behind. But my Masterpiece, my tour de force, my greatest achievement is all the piss and all the shit that I have stored. Hoard it all. Wall to wall. Hoard it all. Plates and bowls. Plastic bags and paper sacks. Anything that can hold my precious excremental keepsake. Brown is gold to me! At first the smell is potent. But nostrils acclimate in time. Breathe it in! Breathe it in, Fill up your lungs. Open up your closed mind in my autogenous cell. Hoard it all. Wall to wall. Hoard it all. Wall to wall. Hoard it all. Wall to wall. Gaze upon my artful mounds. Play with the brown clay I’ve made. Welcome are those who judge not for the norms of society that I break. But beware! Many are those who I’ve buried within these four walls. I don’t take kindly to judging eyes, and the smell of shit covers all. Shit above all! Shit above all! Shit above all! Worship the brown God. Breathe it all in. Rub it around. Savor the taste of my sacrosanct feces. Everything I have ever been, or will ever be, is manifest in my feces.

By definition I was bred to feel nothing inside as I, the living scourge, laid waste to all that my lord elect. With unfaltering allegiance I killed man upon fucking man. Like clockwork I extinguished all chosen threats on command. Oh the thousands I’ve killed. The pure blood that I’ve spilled to secure my King’s fortune and name. I am the King’s iron right hand. His little marionette. And for all of this, bestowed upon me by him was a rose, untainted and pure. Night and day I spent side-by-side with this rose, engrossed, sharing all and withholding none. We grew as one. Nurtured by the sun. She grew roots deep in me and, in her, I sewed my seed.  Through her I learned to feel. But then one night upon return from a bloody campaign, I found my rose, my love, my world had been viciously slain He violated and destroyed her; raped her again and again. After all I had done for him, how could he mutilate my whole world? I will have my revenge. I sharpen my blade 'til it pierces through bone. My bow is strung tight to launch bolts that seek brain. Tonight I will bring back with me the bodies of those who dwell in the castle of the King. Silently I infiltrate with the aid of steel-forged retribution. I slash and I gash. I sever, hack and smash. I wedge apart the skulls of all in my way. Then I find the king in tears, sobbing in acceptance of his greatest fear: Me in red with reason to detach his head and rip apart his worthless wicked body. I cock my two hands, clutching 4 pounds of steel. I drop the blade in his neck and his head hits the floor. Off with his head.