Family Tradition

Esau licked the traces of brain-cream off his fingers and reached for the container of mace. Nodding to Darren he remarked, “Can’t make a good souffle without a touch of mace ya know? Ya can have your salt, pepper, even some garlic and coriander, but without a touch of mace it just ain’t right.”

Darren’s crushed head was quite beyond showing any degree of appreciation for the culinary arts being demonstrated by Esau.

Esau loved having someone to talk to as he cooked, even if that someone was a crushed head. He continuedY “The other thing that’s important is ya need some lard. Fortunately we got that girl with the big titties there, I’ll scoop some of that suet outta her boobs and we’ll be all set.” Esau was enjoying himself thoroughly; this was almost like having your own cooking show, just like Mr. Morrone. Helping himself to a big glass of cooking sherry, he toasted Carol’s corpse dangling from the wall and bowed expansively. To no one in particular he continued his monologue.

“A bit of the bubbly, and now we get our suet, the fresher the better.” He squeezed one of Carol’s large breasts. “This’ll do perfectly!” Making a deep incision, Esau began scooping out yellowish fatty tissue, but first out came the implants. “Yeah, a city gal,” he remarked, then chuckled when he remembered what he’d carved out of her groin. “Er, sorta!” He tossed the strange plastic bags aside. “Sure don’t want none’a that siller-cone in my recipes.”

Kneading the fatty tissue into the mix, he chuckled again. Just maybe Mr. Morrone could be persuaded to stay around for a while and give some private lessons. After all, it wasn’t like he was ever going to get to go back to Seattle and resume doing his show. Enoch would find him soon and bring him back, and then, Esau was struck with inspirationY No need to give Grandpa everything. Why, there was enough here so that Mr. Morrone could have a generous sampling of several different delicacies! A chance to actually cook for the greatest chef in the world! Esau was so excited by the prospect that he figured he’d better take a short break with the worms. There was plenty of time to get a good nut off while the souffle set.

««—»»

        3Ashton slogged through the woods, cleaver at the ready. Each breath came as a struggle. His chest felt as though a soccer team had run practice drills on it. Only a red hate made him conscious and mobile. Steal his eels would he? Put a spy in his restaurant would he? Shoot him? When he found M. Gerald James he’d dice him into pieces small enough to make mince pies. James and that duplicitous little whore, Roseanne or whatever her name. Fueled by rage Ashton felt more alive than he had in years. Why, he might even condescend to let Sheree fuck him when they got home.

A sound—something large was moving through the woods just off to his right. Ashton gripped the handle of the cleaver so tightly that his pudgy knuckles whitened. The sound came again, branches snapping as something big moved through them, drawing closer. A bear? Where there bears out here? He’d been so obsessed with the Crackjaw eel that he hadn’t bothered to ask the brothers about the fauna that lived around the lake… Whatever it was making the noise, it sounded like the cleaver would be seriously overmatched.

“There you are!” Enoch hove into view, brushing some twigs out of his beard.

“So you must be Enoch, I’m certainly glad to see you.” Ashton dropped the cleaver and trotted forward to greet the big man. Why, in no time he’d have the brothers combing the area for that bastard James…

Enoch flashed a friendly grin and just as quickly sent a fist the size of a small ham crashing into Ashton’s jaw. Ashton had only a second to register the fact that now something hurt worse than his chest before the lights went out.

Enoch surveyed the prone chef and extracted a roll of duct tape from his overalls. “That guy on TV is right, this stuff is the handyman’s secret weapon, alright. We’ll have you all fixed up here in no time.” In seconds he had Ashton’s wrists and ankles lashed firmly together.

Then, with no more effort than a normal man would expend picking up a kitten, he hoisted Ashton’s bulk over his shoulder and set off toward the shacks.

««—»»

Sheree heard a man’s voice emanating from the shack. From her extended experience in porno she could tell what he was doing before she opened the door. The grunts of ecstasy were unmistakable; someone was humping someone else’s brains out and thoroughly enjoying it. The reality of what she saw was far different from the mental picture of one of the brothers slamming the ham to some local redneck girl.

What she saw made her think that the acid had kicked in again and that the previous buzz had just been a warm-up for a hellaciously bad trip…

Esau stood there with his overalls down to ankles gripping a massive cock that looked like it was the home to every venereal disease known to man. His other hand was filled with a writhing mass of nightcrawlers that he was jamming furiously over his swollen and misshapen manhood. Hanging from the wall was Carol, a red ruin between her legs where just a short time ago had been that lovely cock that had filled Sheree with so much pleasure. A table was covered with a spread of exotic foods that wouldnt' look out of place in Ashton’s restaurant. There on the floor was a mangled, shit-smeared corpse…

The man that I saw running through the woods?

Esau stared at her for a moment, seemingly unembarrassed by the circumstances. “You just hold on there sweetcakes, I get so excited when I cook up a spread like this that I’ll be able to get another nut off in just a minute. You and I can have some fun before Enoch and your boyfriend get back!”

Sheree fought to keep from gagging as she looked at the monster’s worm-enslimed tool. She’d come here for help only to find this, this nightmare… Almost involuntarily she raised the shotgun and squeezed the triggers…

The twin blast caught Esau squarely in the gut, sending him crashing into the wall. Esau screamed, slid down the wall, and shot out a stream of cum. But as the shotgun’s report had sent Esau sailing, before he’d hit the wall, he’d bumped into something.

A…drum of some sort.

Sheree tried to focus her eyes.

Yes, it was a big metal drum—about four feet high and three feet wide—and it seemed to have been placed on a metal rack above a pit full of red embers.

A cooking pit.

When the shotgun’s blast had sent Esau traveling toward the wall, he’d bumped against the drum and knocked it over.

THHH-WUNK

The drum landed on its side, and its wide metal lid popped off—

SSSSSSSSS-LURSHHH

—and out poured a flood of steaming yellow-white slop. A rather delectable aroma like pork and vegetables filled the shack, but then Sheree peered closer.

Something else had fallen out of the keg too.

A pressure-cooked corpse.

Sheree shuddered and fell to her knees as the contents of her stomach erupted to merge with the slop, cum, blood, and shit staining the floor.

Esau struggled to his feet making a strange keening soundY

“Grandpa, help me! Help me!” Esau staggered past Sheree, holding ropy intestines cupped in his hands as he lurched out of ther shack toward the lake.

'WHAT THE FUCK!!!” Enoch dropped Ashton as his brother staggered past him screaming for his Grandpa. Enoch couldn’t imagine what had happened. He’d left Esau twenty minutes earlier happily making a brain souffle and now here he was on his knees by the lake trying to keep his innards from spilling out onto the ground.

“Grandpa, HELP ME!” Esau was screeching like a banshee and desperately trying to tuck his intestines back into their proper place.

Sheree peered out the door, paralyzed by the enormity of what she’d done. There was Ashton lying on the