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Slaughterhouse Remains
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ISBN-10: 1-55404-468-5
Genre: Supernatural/Horror/Suspense/Thriller
eBook Length: 154 Pages
Published: July 2007

From inside the flap

Frightfully fun-filled nighttime shivers!

Never let it be said that horror can’t be fun!

An appetizing selection of gruesome goodies awaits the reader in this tantalizing adventure presented by Chef Billy and his shifty kitchen crew.

Savor a late night evening sampling tasty sausage links prepared Mexican style while perusing a vast array of menu options and stories to delight the terror-riddled palate.

Dive into a feeding frenzy, sip some blood red port, and join our cleaver-clutching company as you are wined and dined on the desert’s most delectable and detestable entrées in "Slaughterhouse Remains". This is fine dining at its very best containing a dash of humor, a pinch of suspense, and a nice blend of horrific surprises.

Bring your family and friends. We offer a special discount for large, portly, meaty groups. We do not offer doggie bags but we will provide body bags.

"You won’t leave hungry, because you won’t leave…at all!"

Slaughterhouse Remains (Excerpt)

Welcome to my dinner table!

Yo! Where did you come from? Gave me a bit of a surprise. Oh, the book, yeah! You wanna’ know what it’s about. Gotcha."
"Let’s see…blood, guts, and some great recipes. Chef Billy, that’s me, I get to fill you in on the stories along the way. This whole thing is laid out like a menu in the Buffet Table of Contents. Even the titles are food twists. Then there’s this creepy dude reading the stories as we go along, so it all starts out with a short excerpt as he opens the book to the first story. Kind of a story within a story idea. I like that."
"Slaughterhouse Remains is definitely not for the kiddies. I wouldn’t call this Splatterpunk material but there are a few sensitive subjects covered. Nobody is sexually abusing the dead, or anything like that. On the other hand, I wouldn’t give a copy to my bible-thumping grandmother, either."
"Well, hey, I got a restaurant to run."
"Hey, you, delivery boy! Yeah, you with the face! Where’s my veal? Yeah, the expensive stuff, you moron! What? It wasn’t on the order? Like hell it wasn’t! Hey, come back here! You ain’t done yet! If you don’t get my veal, I’ll rip out your liver myself and serve it instead. Hey, where ya’ going? Get back here! You’re a dead man! What’s that…the finger? Now you are a dead man…"


The door slammed behind a dark looming figure in the cellar. Feet shuffled down rickety steps, rats skittered, and a bare and dusty light-bulb flickered on. A slab of beef jerky is tossed onto the cracked and unvarnished top of a teetering butcher-block table, one leg a tad bit shorter than the others. A loud groan is uttered as a book is dropped next to the jerky; its crisp new pages flipping open to the first story.
Deafening silence as the huge man guzzles the last brown sludge of whiskey, flops into a chair, kicks his feet up onto the table and proceeds to read



Billy’s Menu Selections: Prickly Pairs Dipped in Blood Sauce

Satan’s Chili
A Taste of Honey
For chili enthusiasts, Satan’s Chili is sure to provide a gratifying experience for your palate. It’s not too spicy, has the luck of the devil for curing unusual maladies, and is guaranteed to keep all rapists coming back for more.
A Taste of Honey was designed for those candy lovers with a sweet tooth. The chef recommends this one specifically for trick-or-treating male teens that like to pick on little old ladies, and child molesters. Both are welcome to partake of the all-u-can-eat menu, but too much of anything could be devastating to your health…or life.



Satan’s Chili

Frisbees soared as children raced across the grassy park in the late afternoon sunshine. The autumn air had cooled to a tolerable eighty-five degrees in the desert, offering a lovely atmosphere for the great chili cook-off, an annual event that drew a large crowd of chili enthusiasts. Tables lined the treed area, piled high with bowls and condiments. Amateur chefs in caps and aprons tended to their masterpieces, stirring steamy contents in bubbling pots. A long line of stony judges tested each competitor’s concoction, annotating comments on pads along the way. The judges’ expressions varied, offering the murmuring public a humorous picture while they observed the ritual, anxiously awaiting the results of this year’s winning recipe.
"Do you th,think the j,jezebel will win again?" asked Brenda, a middle-aged rancher’s wife with an obvious stutter.
"Shoot, she’s won every year for the past five years. Why should it be any different this time around?" replied Tina, her hefty companion. The large woman crossed her arms over an ample bust, biceps beefy enough to belong to a trucker, and strutted closer to the tables. Her slender friend scooted up from behind, mesmerized by the woman’s buttocks that looked like two cats fighting in a burlap sack as they jiggled in the seat of the worn jeans.
"S,Slow down, T,Tina," she chirped as she trotted up to her friend.
"Don’t got all day, so get your fanny in gear, girl."
Both women slipped into the crowd. Tina shoved her way through with Brenda close behind, attached like a boil to her butt as they crept along to hover near the last table where a svelte, attractive young woman patiently waited for the judges to approach. Everything about the pretty lady was a magnet for success, from her model figure down to the sexy shorts and low-cut blouse teeming with velvety mounds of taboo flesh.
"That ’ho! She’s such a tease! All that sinfully exposed skin makes the judges hand over the trophy without a second thought. I think they’re drooling over her instead of the chili," said Tina. She slicked back her long ebony locks with a chubby hand, jowls wiggling as she talked. "She never forks over the recipe, no matter how many times she’s won the contest. I guess they can’t resist her charm."
"I thought p,part of the r,requirements was to g,give up the r,recipe," said Brenda, her stutter growing by the second.
"It is, but for some reason they never push it with her. And I guess more than one person has tried to bribe her for it, but she can’t be bought. Some even say it’s like a miracle cure of some type. Last year one of the judges claimed he was diagnosed with stomach cancer right before the contest, yet all the symptoms and the cancer disappeared afterwards. He told the newspaper fellow that when he tried Chastity’s chili, she told him he’d never feel better once he’d had a taste. He still claims it was some sort of divine intervention, a message from God that he wasn’t meant to die yet, and that Chastity was one of God’s angels. It was all a bit much to swallow, if you ask me."
Brenda hushed her friend with a finger to her cupid lips as the first judge approached the attractive woman’s table. Both ladies held their breath as a bowl of chili was offered. The bespectacled judge carefully sniffed a spoonful of the dark reddish brown mixture, relishing the aroma. He wet his lips in anticipation then took a taste.
Apparently Chastity’s reputation for her famous chili had made an impression on the competing chefs as they all observed the first judge’s reaction, riveted to the moment and ignoring the other judges that were sampling their soups.
The judge tried to withhold a smile, but the faint curve upon his lips was evident as he downed a second spoonful of the mixture, then a third, and so on, until the bowl was empty. The pleased woman grinned. Around her the audience murmured, seeming to acknowledge the judge’s pleasing response.
"One down," Tina said with a scowl. "It looks like the hussy will walk away with the trophy again, which will sure hurt my cousin, Sheila’s, feelings."
Brenda blushed as her friend tugged at a droopy breast and snapped a bra strap into place beneath the blouse. Once everything appeared properly positioned, Tina escaped the crowd, slipped illegally in behind the tables, and squeezed beside her cousin, another giant of a woman. It seemed massiveness was a family trait. Brenda was barely noticeable, squished and buried between the two mounds like a sweater beneath a pile of down-filled winter coats. She thought she was going to suffocate as her senses were overwhelmed by female body odors swimming in cheap perfumes.
"What do you think, Sheila? Does Chastity have it in the bag?"
The younger woman frowned. She dabbed at watering eyes with a balled up tissue, sniveling. "I can’t be sure, Teeny, but it looks pretty promising on her behalf."
"T,teeny?" Brenda managed to ask with some effort.
"Yeah, I’m the smallest in the family, so they all branded me with that nickname."
Brenda shuddered as she contemplated a family gathering on Tina’s side, one huge mountain of flab after another proudly lined up like champion Sumo wrestlers to banquet-sized tables laden with endless platters of food. She couldn’t push herself to envision the actual feeding frenzy as the group dove in, face first with teeth gnashing, cheeks waggling, swollen stomachs sagging and dragging. It was too nauseating to consider. She’d watched Tina eat before. It was a terrifying experience--one she didn’t care to witness ever again.
"Come on, Sheila. Don’t let it get you down, girl. Maybe you’ll win next year."
With a loud honk, Sheila blew her nose. It sounded like a foghorn. "I needed that cash this year, Teeny. Donny rear-ended a young lady’s car the other day and we were not properly covered by our insurance policy. Despite my constant warning that he needed to upgrade, he failed to listen, and now we’re paying for it."
Brenda was stunned by Sheila’s perfect vocabulary. Tina shrugged as she whispered, "She’s a teacher," into her thin friend’s ear.
"Aw, hon, all men are stupid. Why do you think I ain’t married yet?"
"Because you don’t like men?" Sheila asked.
"Well, I reckon that’s part of it."
Off in the distance a predator lurked. He kept his shaggy head low as he filtered into the crowd, slowly working his way forward near the tables. People pulled away from his nauseating odor, and he barked at children whenever they stepped into his path. Dark eyes thirsty with desire sought out the young female chef. Taught wiry muscles spasmed along thin bare arms, heavily decorated with obscene tattoos which crested up the back of his neck into a cruelly etched noose that wrapped around a scarred throat. The butt of a smoking fag dangled from thin cracked lips, and the man smirked when he deliberately kicked a stray dog. The animal yelped as it jetted away with tail tucked, terrified.
The crowd parted before him like the sea before Moses, as mothers pulled their children out of harm’s way and men avoided confrontational stares. Nobody wanted a piece of the stranger. He reeked of danger.
As Tattoo approached the tables, Tina immediately took notice. She nudged both Sheila and Brenda, a fat finger pointed in his direction.
"He’s a fine example as to why I’m not married."
All eyes focused on the offensive young derelict as he leaned upon the table before Chastity. Slowly he stuck a grimy finger into the boiling pot of chili, lingering without a flinch from the tremendous heat. The attractive woman seemed unimpressed as she looked about, avoiding his intense stare. Tattoo extracted the red-sauced finger, and a pointed tongue lapped at the juices, elaborately drawing out the macho image that he was trying to impress upon the pretty woman.
"Watch Chastity, girls! She’s a real work of art, I tell ya," said Tina.
"You want some of this?" asked Tattoo. He waggled his tongue at the girl, and shoved his scraggly-bearded face closer to her. "You ain’t had nothing till you’ve had some of this, baby." Red chili sauce tainted his crooked grin.
Brazen and unafraid, Chastity stared directly back at the unsightly man. Her brows raised up cocky-like as she leaned into him. The man was taken aback by her directness as uncertainty crossed the gnarly features. Unwilling to be bluffed, Tattoo pressed even closer as he gripped her wrist and yanked it towards his crotch. "How about some of this?"
Chastity grinned, exposing perfect white teeth. Tattoo suddenly realized that she wasn’t bluffing. Before he could release his grip a fiery explosion consumed his testicles as Chastity kicked him from beneath the table. Blinding agony swallowed his insides as he collapsed to the ground, gagging while he clutched the crushed remains beneath his tattered jeans. He didn’t hear the audience roaring with laughter as two burly judges dragged him behind some trees, then kicked him a couple of times for good measure.
"See what I mean, gals. Chastity knows how to take care of herself. It’ll take the best of the best to conquer her someday. I’ve seen her in action before, and whooeee, she’s one heckuva hellion when someone invades her territorial bubble. I need to take lessons from her."
"And now, let’s hear it for this year’s grand champion of the chili cook-off, Chastity Fate!"
Sheila groaned.
"Aw, shoot, Sheila. Maybe you’ll win it next year, girl," said Tina with a sympathetic smile.
"Yeah, when pigs fly," said Sheila as she blubbered into her ragged Kleenex. Brenda and Tina comforted the sobbing woman as they helped clean up, while Chastity signed autographs and posed for pictures in the background.