100-Word Story: Cannibalism edition

Hey you beautiful people, and then the rest of you, who look less good, but have stunning personalities, and so I consider you beautiful as well, but you know, not in a way that everyone would understand without talking to you. Not to say that people who look good are worth talking to, just that the immediate beauty is a little more apparent. But of less quality.

Ok, look, what I'm trying to get at here is Hello.

Tonight's 100 word story is brought to you by some dude named Brian. You can follow him on Twitter @guaybrian, or check out his website here: http://brokensnowflakestudio.ca/. He draws pretty pictures and causes great envy in my blood.

This story focuses on financial instability of being a restauranteur in a cannibalistic society.


Only months before, customers were barreling through the doors, fighting for seats. Those that couldn't find a spot were offered new ones, in the back. They obliged, following the hostess into the kitchen. They came back out, fried, basted, grilled. For the connoisseur, wrapped in seaweed. Soon, the kitchen ran out of specials. Customers went to complain, and returned in a stew. The owner had never seen such success. He treated the kitchen staff to the servers, and rewarded himself with the kitchen staff. Now he sits amid the bones, gnawing gently at his toes. A man's got to eat.

Delightful and disturbing. Much like myself.

I hope you all enjoyed this instalment of rapidfire lunacy. Please, give me ideas, and I will write them. Give me ideas, or I will eat you.

Your pal,

-V-