“I’m Missing Two Legs.”

The other night on the way home from the grocery store (where My Wife and I had gone specifically to get shit for dinner) got lazy and went the Fast Food Route. We opted for Fried Chicken.

We pulled up to the Drive Thru Menu, and the Drive Thru Girl did the whole whole Hey how the hell are you, How’s the kids, Welcome to this Fast Food joint, and What do you want today bullshit.

We told her that we would like an 8 piece Dinner. The Girl mumbled something I really have no fucking clue what the hell she actually said. Now We could hear all the back round noise of the kitchen and shit so we couldn’t figure out who exactly the Girl was talking to us or a fellow employee. It was quite unclear.

We waited a minute or two and then repeated the original order. The reply we got from the Drive Thru Girl was this one statement:

“I’m missing two legs.”

My Wife and I had no idea what to make of this so my wife asked her to repeat what she had said and again it was “I’m missing two legs.”

 

This miscommunication goes on for just shy of 5 minutes where My Wife keeps attempting to clarify what the fuck this statement turned mantra was all about. The Entire time all the Girl said was I’m missing two legs.”

I was sitting there just as puzzled as my Wife and I started to wonder myself what the whole two legs statement means since the problem was we were missing any and all context.

I began thinking is this Girl handicapped and really wants me to know it for some bizarre reason? Did she just kill her Manager, dismember the Corpse, and now realized as she is bagging up the body that the legs are missing? Did she just suddenly look down and her fucking legs were missing? Was she an Amputee who had misplaced her prosthetic legs at work while sitting and working the Drive Thu?

In the end the explanation is more than anti-climactic.

What the Girl was trying in her own absurd way was this:

By “I” was We as in The Restaurant itself.

By “Missing” She meant Out Of

And By Legs she meant Drumsticks.

so “I’m missing two legs.” translated into “We (the Restaurant) are Out of Drumsticks, Can We make a substitution for you?”

She was also referencing that an 8 piece bucket of said Fried Chicken contains 2 Breasts, 2 Thighs, 2 Wings, and 2 Legs. Which when I thought about it made perfect sense.

What? Oh I know what your thinking and Your thinking well Duh no shit Sherlock.

Well as basic the answer is I had never spent any time (not a single second of my many, many years on this planet) contemplating the exact contents of a 8 piece bucket of Fried fucking Chicken, and the ratio of the various  Chicken’s Parts.

Thanks for Reading,

Les Sober

The Insanity in Editing Revision #3

 Revision #3 for The Butchers of Backwater

The Butchers of Backwater:
“The Thrill to Kill to Spill Blood so Fresh, The Toll Your Soul shall PAY IN FLESH.” – Asher Leviticus 1803

The pungent odor of the smelling salts filled Joel’s nostrils as he snapped awake like he was hit by a lighting bolt. His vision was blurred and he strained his eyes to the point of pain, squinting to make out where he was. Joel’s head was pounding like there was a giant metronome banging away in his head. His eyes adjusted to the dim candle light of the chandelier and various candelabra’s which sent shadows dancing on the walls with wild abandon. The wall paper was so old it had become yellowed and as brittle as parchment. Large pictures of grim stoic figures which Joel assumed where family ancestors in dingy gaudy gold frames lined all four walls of the dinning room. Some of the people in the paintings looked somewhat deformed but Joel dismissed this as a characteristic of the stone faced portraits of the past where no one dared smile. The black and white old photographs had faded in various degrees from whitened smudged edges to almost fully faded and black in appearance. The subjects of photos as well as

the paintings wore emotionless poker faces.There were two medieval looking candelabras on the table placed at each end these in combination with the chandelier did little to combat the darkness which encapsulated the room.

Joel’s eyes came slowly into focus he could see he was in a rather large dinning room that was reminiscent of the kind one might find in an Old Southern farmhouse. Joel was restrained with thick chains that bound his feet together, and secured his arms to the arms to that of an old oak chair. The chains were coiled around Joel’s torso like a metallic python as well. Joel was positioned at one end of the table opposite the designated head. He strained against the chains to no avail as it became a reality that he wasn’t going anywhere, and was being held as some sort of hostage. There was a full place setting in front of Joel consisting of a antique china plate that was chipped around its perimeter. There were three forks, two spoons and a knife laid out as well that were very old and genuine silver. The cutlery showed it age. Oxidation over years had left its trade mark patina giving the utensils a tarnished appearance. Joel became a deep commanding voice with a distinct drawl coming from behind him.

“Ah, I see our company has risen from his prolonged slumber. I was beginning to fear that you might never be returning to this world of the living, but look at you now. A true testament to a man’s will and his perseverance over that which is problematic.”

Joel was still struggling with all his might to come fully back to his senses. Questions swarmed Joel’s battered brain like enraged Hornets adding to his continued confusion. Where the hell am I? Who’s house is this?” “How’d I even get here”,but most of all at this particular

moment the primary question was “Who is this man and why did he restrain me with an excessive amount of chains?”

“Mr. Joel Fletcher you have a definite look of confusion as to where you are and to that which is going on.”said the voice with a slight tone of mockery.

Joel then heard the distinct sound of a centuries old wooden floor sighing with long groans. The foot steps were coming closer and closer from behind Joel. Joel tried to hide his increasing anxiety and fought to keep his voice from wavering.

“Who are you? What in the name of christ is going on here? What do you want?” Joel said as his speech increased its rate of speed. Damn it Joel thought to himself I can’t show weakness, I must remain calm and as focused as possible considering the current circumstances.

“Questions abound don’t they Mr. Fletcher? You shall have all the answers you desire shortly I assure you.” The voice said from directly behind Joel so close that Joel could smell the stink of cigarette smoke.

Suddenly a very tall and lean elderly man strode out from behind Joel’s seat and quickly crossed the vast dining room in only a couple of strides stopping at the head of the table. The old man was dressed in a crisp brilliantly white suit complete with a bolo tie. For a split second Joel wondered if he had fallen victim to the demented relatives of Colonel Sanders from the KFC advertisements of his youth. The old man had a full beard that was as white as his suit and long shoulder length hair that for some reason was as black as the bottom of an abyss. The old man pulled his chair out and took a seat. He slowly lowered his long and thin body into a chair.

The old man crossed his legs and rested his arms on the table at either side of a second place setting. The old man reached into his suit jacket and removed a cigarette case. He opened the case, removed a cigarette and tapped it lightly and deliberately on the exterior of the case. The old man took a few minutes, which seemed like an eternity to Joel, to locate his Zippo lighter which had the Leviticus family crest on it . The old man lit his cigarette taking in the first couple of drags with gusto before exhaling. A cloud of lingering smoke hovered around his head like a demonic mist.

Once Joel’s eyes met the gentlemen stranger the man began speaking. “You must pardon our lack of light for dining. You see with my condition, I’m an albino you see, I’m afraid my disadvantaged eyes are rather sensitive to light, thusly we forgo the harsh light of electricity in favor of the softer less offensive light of candles.”said the Gentlemen as he puffed away on his cigarette like it was going out of style.

“We? We who? I only see you and me sitting here.” Joel asked nervously, his voice now quivering uncontrollably.

“Well then, as you are my honored guest allow me to explain. My family name is Leviticus and we have kept our bloodline pure for centuries even before my family made their way to America. My family was of great wealth and status until the civil war tore us asunder. War is hell Mr. Joel. War is hell indeed.” said Mr. Leviticus in a slow and steady tone before a brief pause. “After the war my family was banished into the backwaters of the Mississippi were they eked out a meager living hunting Alligators and selling their skins. Then came the unfortunate great depression and the rural people of this land left this place to find greener pastures in bigger towns and even the cities. My family being tougher than the gator skins they sold decided to stay put for we would not lose the rest of our family to the industrial world beyond the boarders of the bayou.” Mr. Leviticus said with pride as he stared off into oblivion.

“Now alas, my brother and I are all that remains of the once great Leviticus Family lineage.” continued Mr. Leviticus who at this point seemed to be talking to himself as he didn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence as he spoke.

“Due to the family tradition of keeping the family bloodline clean and pure, there have been some issues of health with the later generations such as the deformity of both body and mind. My brother being the last offspring born into this family suffers egregiously from these afflictions you see Mr. Fletcher.”

Just then the massive silhouette of a man filled the immense doorway behind the seated Mr. Leviticus.

“Ah Yes dinner is served I do hope you enjoy pork Mr. Fletcher” declared Mr. Leviticus with great pleasure.

“Where is my brother?” Joel asked anxiously as he suddenly remembered they had been traveling together. They were documenting the impact the oil spill had wreaked upon the Gulf of Mexico and those whose livelihood as fishermen had been destroyed.

“You see Mr. Joel when my brother and I happened upon you as well as your aforementioned brother. You were both being beaten mercilessly by a group of roving bikers outside a rather unattractive bar in Bella, the text town over from ours. I phoned the police at

which point the bikers fled. My brother and I collected y’all, brought you to our family home, mended your wounds and have been caring for y’all ever since.” answered Mr. Leviticus promptly.

Before Joel could get the next question out of his mouth the monstrous silhouette standing in the doorway made its way into the room carrying two dinner plates, one in each hand. The mountain of a man was covered in a thick layer of sweat and he had gnarled twisted up limbs like that of an ancient live oak. He stooped and placed a plate in front of Mr. Leviticus delicately. The grotesque giant was wearing grimy dirt encrusted over alls without a shirt. As Mr. Leviticus’s younger brother made his way over to Joel was the floor boards strained to support the weight of his extremely large frame. Long greasy unkept hair obscured the titan’s face. This was accentuated by the fact that Mr. Leviticus’s brother tended to walk with his head lowered as if in mourning. The large man made his way over to Joel where he unceremoniously dropped a plate on the table. The plate crashed down upon the table with a loud clatter which caused some of the meat juice to splatter.

“Eli!” yelled Mr. Leviticus outraged, “You know quite well this table is a family heirloom and must be treated with the respect it deserves. Must you be such an uncouth savage brother? Your just lucky that what you lack in mind you make up for in body. Now leave us and don’t let playing with your food to even enter your minuscule mind.”

Eli who had frozen into a statue at the mention of his name cocked his head sideways with his back to his brother, Mr. Leviticus, as if he was struggling to control his own outrage. His gargantuan muscles tightening at every word that came out of his irritated brother’s mouth. It seemed that Mr. Leviticus’s brother was physically affected by his the harsh reprimanding. When Mr. Leviticus was done chastising his younger brother Eli promptly bent down and wiped the meat juice off the table with one of his hotdog sized fingers. He then hastily exited the dining room utilizing the door behind Joel. Joel’s nostrils were overcome by the smell of rotting flesh that wafted off Eli as he lumbered past on his way out of the room.

“Please excuse my brother’s lack of manners. He is not as civilized as your aforementioned brother. His appearance is quite off-putting especially upon the in initial meeting.” said Mr. Leviticus apologetically before continuing “Dig in Mr. Fletcher you need to regain your strength.”

Joel was starving. He tore in to his meal. His body craved the sustenance. He and Mr. Leviticus ate in silence. Joel couldn’t help but notice the pork chops were fresh and succulent unlike any he had eaten before. The meat was so tender it melted in Joel’s mouth coating his tongue with the fantastic taste of the meat. The smell of the meat was intoxicating just on its own.

“Pardon me Mr. Leviticus but this pork is delicious. I hope you have treated my brother, Zander, as kindly and also treated him to a wonderful meal like this.” Joel said honestly.

“Don’t worry Mr. Fletcher Zander is here in spirit and on the plate I assure you.” Mr. Leviticus said matter of factly with a slight sneer.

“What the hell are you talking about? What are you saying?” Joel asked in full blown panic his heart pounding as if it was attempting hammer its way through Joel’s ribcage.

“You see Mr. Fletcher when times are tough and food is scarce my family’s motto is “If there is no meat there is always man” and this motto has gotten us through many a lean time in our history. We are you see cannibals of conviction and convenance . My family acquired this trait after my ancestor Barnabas Leviticus spent some time in the Fiji Islands back in 1839.”announced Mr. Leviticus as he leisurely chewed his meal with an air of great satisfaction.

“You have to understand that a key piece of Fijian history revolves around cannibalism as my illustrious great granddaddy four times over found out first hand himself.” Continued Mr. Leviticus with admiration. “The indigenous tribes that inhabited the Fiji Islands back then had adopted cannibalism from their long voyage at sea with the lack of adequate nutritious food. This forced the sailors to consume the flesh of the dead for survivals sake. After the land the indigenous tribes cannibalism became a normal part of their diet as more people arrived the competition for natural resources, property and most of all women. Also warring tribes devoured their slain enemies not just for food, but in celebration of their mighty victory.” Mr. Leviticus took a long sip from his mason jar that most likely contained Moonshine.

A growing grin of sadistic delight let Joel know that Mr. Leviticus was enjoying the torment which he was subjecting Joel to. Joel tried with all his might to process the horror of what he had just been told.

“Barnabas was the great explorer of our family. In the Fiji islands he met and befriended Udre. Udre was the chief of one of the more predominate tribes. Barnabas and Udre spent many years together and their bond only strengthened over time as the two became like brothers more than friends.” said Mr. Leviticus triumphantly again taking a long sip from his mason jar of Moonshine before continuing his terrible tale.

“Now the most prevalent part of this story is chief Udre udre, according to the 2003 Guiness World Record, held the title of “most prolific cannibal” having eaten between 872 to 900 people. So as you may of surmised Barnabas learned an extensive about of knowledge on the subject and culture of cannibalism before returning home many year later.”

“Thats fucking insane, your insane!” screamed Joel at the top of his lungs, “This is bullshit!! Your a liar! Your fucking lying you sick son of a bitch!” Joel struggled relentlessly with the chains that confined him to the chair trying desperately to free himself.

“Do not act so surprised Mr. Fletcher as this is not the first time you have heard of cannibalism I’m certain of that,” said Mr. Leviticus in a mocking tone. “Eli can you summon Mr. Zander to the table please I would appreciate it so.” Mr. Leviticus said in a booming voice that dominated the room.

Joel was terrified, completely confused and disoriented. His pulse was racing like that of a jack rabbit on meth. Sweat was rolling down his face like a midsummer rain shower. His eyes frantically searched the room finding nothing to hope for. Joel was trapped alone with two cannibal brothers one of which claimed they killed and cooked his broth er. There was also the mentally crippling thought that he may have indeed dined upon his brothers flesh. This drove Joel to the point of lunacy.

The slow solid steps echoed down the hallway as Eli returned to the dinning room. Joel’s racing mind was flooding his head with horrible scenarios of torture and death. Joel was so wrought with panic it seemed that he could actually feel his hair growing. Finally Eli’s imposing body once again filled the doorway behind Joel his shadow loomed over Joel like a storm cloud waiting out the calm. Eli crept up behind Joel stopping directly behind him. As Eli lurked behind him Joel could hear his labored breath. It sounded steady and deep and ended more or less in an exacerbated sigh coming from directly above his head, but Joel was too terrified to even entertain the idea of looking up into the face of the monstrosity standing over him. Joel felt Eli’s rancid breathe ruffling the hair on the top of his head each time Eli exhaled.

“Where is my brother you demented, backwoods, inbred, hillbilly, son of a bitch? Where is ZANDER?” demanded Joel in frustrated anger struggling so hard that the chains with which he was bound rattled like wind chimes in a hurricane.

“Eli if you’d be so kind” said Mr. Leviticus in a monotone voice indicating his boredom with the matter.

Without warning the immense arm swung around in front of Joel and slammed something on the table before drawing itself back to its owner standing behind him. It happened so fast that Joel was initially too startled to comprehend what was happening. He sat transfixed by fear like a deer in the headlights of an eighteen wheeler barreling down upon it. Then Joel saw what Eli had deposited upon the table in front of him, his brothers Zander’s bloody severed head. Zander’s eyes were fully open, and his face was twisted in sheer agony as if he had seen the angel of death himself before dying.

“JESUS CHRIST! ZANDER!” exclaimed Joel in a fevered pitch as he gazed upon his brothers decapitated head. The shock paralyzed his body and mind.

“Collect yourself Mr. Fletcher your bordering on hysterical,” commanded Mr. Leviticus who was now scowling in absolute disgust and bitter distain.

“Eli, Eli come collect what remains of Mr. Fletcher’s brother and take it back to the processing building quick as can be,” said Mr. Leviticus waving his hand royally back and forth through the thick smokey air as he spoke.

“I think its imperative that you understand. The Leviticus family uses every viable part of the carcass, the last of your brother Zander’s remains will be processed into head cheese,” Mr. Leviticus said sounding more like a man rather than the monster he was.

“Don’t worry Mr. Fletcher you aren’t long for this world thus grievance over eating your brother will be short I assure you.”said Mr. Leviticus leering as he bent forward running his tongue over his yellow nicotine stained teeth.

“You see Mr. Fletcher whats on tomorrow night’s dinner menu is you, but until then would you care for some dessert? No? shame Eli makes a splendid cherries jubilee.”