No More Room In The Freezer

Plastic sheets cover the cold tiled room. The deceased layed out, split from neck to naval. Anthropophagic butcher of culinary skills, alone in his kitchen, clenching blood stained tools. In a refrigerator packed with carnal delights lay shrink
wrapped stumps, putrid sights. Bowls of human fricasee and headcheese slops sealed with clingfilm, beginning to rot. Blood and grease dribble through the racks, splashing jarred cunts swimming in brine, lodged tight. As the oberrative chef hacks through the night. Pickled penis, finger snacks, head in a cake, offal in packs, minced intestine, severed limbs, assorted organs kept in tins.