Chapter Text
Eric's POV
Scott Tenorman. That sly, ginger, freckled, piece of shit! He couldnt get away with this! It wasnt about the measly $16.15 anymore, it was about punishing him! He needed to pay for what he did. Scott's gonna wish he never met me! I worked tirelessly to draw up my plan, to consider every possible outcome. The plan would be foolproof.
First, I had to be sure Stan and Kyle knew my plan to get Scott's weiner bitten off by a pony, specifically, one at Denkins ranch. I lured them there with the promise of something awesome, a fun day of lighting cow turds on fire.
"cool!!" Kyle said over the phone. "Ill bring stan along, im been going crazy cooped up in my house."
While I waited for them to show, I trained the pony. An hour and four bags of carrots later, it would willingly bite the hotdog off of the fake duplicate of Scott. I pet the horse gently, showering her in praise. She was muscular, with a bulky body and hard hooves that could crush me. Yet, she was so docile, so willing to submit to a my will... I imagined myself as an animal with the ability to make a human being look so frail. I, of course, would be far less merciful with that type of power. My thoughts were interrupted when Stan and Kyle jogged over, stopping in front of me. Kyle raised a brow, then crossed his arms. "what are you doing?"
"Scott Tenorman needs to pay for ridiculing me, and I've devised a briliant little scheme... if you two help me, I'll give you each two dollars!"
"okay, so whats the plan?" Kyle asked impatiently.
"It's a brilliant combonation of my last two plans! Scott Tenormans favourite band is radiohead, right? So I was thinking, we could get Radiohead to come to southpark, and they could meet Scott Tenorman, and see him get his weiner bitten off by a pony!"
I replaced the hotdog that served as fake-Scott's dick. I snapped my fingers, and the animal brought its head down to bite it clean in half. "I'm gonna keep training the pony, and you guys will get radiohead to play here! Ready? Break!!"
"You are such a dumbass, Cartman." Kyle said, turning to leave. Stan glared at me, then joined Kyle.
My friends had seen that theres a risk this could actually work... step one was complete.
In anticipation for Stan and Kyle's disloyalty, I had written my own letter to Radiohead. I paid for the quickest delivery available, and just this morning, got a phone call in response. The poor boy had ass cancer, they'd be cruel not to come!
I had to allow Stan and Kyle some time to call scott and warn him of my plan. In the meantime, it was time to go shopping!
The business district of South Park was just a couple blocks from my house, just a short walk. I had a long, long shopping list, and there was no way id be able to carry it all in my arms, so I brought my wagon.
The first place I needed to get to was the grocery store. I dragged my wagon inside, and walked down each aisle. I retrieved canned beans, tomato paste, and beef broth from the canned food section first, then headed to another aisle to get the spices I needed; curry, chilli powder, garlic powder, and salt. I wanted only the freshest produce for this dish, so I bagged up an organic yellow onion and a small container of baby tomatos. The meat would be a little different than beef, and only the flavours of spices and fresh produce would mask the undoubtedly "off" taste. I needed just a few cleaning supplies, some gloves, bleach, and a cleaning brush.
Self Checkout may be easier than dealing with a cashier, but today was different. I wanted to watch them handle each of the ingridients, I loved knowing something they didn't.
"Hello!" I waved, giving the woman a polite smile.
The pimply, grouchy, teenage girl didn't look amused at all. She quirked a brow when she seperately bagged my non-food items. "Jesus- you committing a murder or something?" she shook her head, punching something into the cashier. "Do you have a phone number with us?"
What was this bitch thinking? I don't even have my own phone! Im just a little boy! Does everyone piss me off on purpose?! "Do I look like I have a goddamn phone number with you?"
"Alright, smartass. Your total is $32.45" She said, taking the card from me. My mom would be upset that I used her already overcharged credit card, but I didnt know or care what that meant. As she packed the last few items in the bags, then handed it to me.
I was ready to prepare my chilli, now it was time for the fun part! I pulled my wagon down the street, then parked inside the enterance of Party City. The lighting was dim and flickery, and everything was sort of dirty. I wanted only the brightest and most colourful decorations for my carnival, a bag of colourful rubber balloons caught my eye. I found large rolls of yellow paper in the back that I could paint as bannars, and a pack of plastic tablecloths. I brought it all to the front, then plopped it on the counter.
"Will that be all?" The cashier asked me.
"Yeah, I want to rent a helium tank for the balloons."
"'Kay." He nodded, then set one on the counter for me.
"Cool."
"This for a birthday party?", he asked me with a smile.
"Nah, its a Chilli Carnival! Everyone is invited!"
"Oh, wonderful!"
I took the bag and struggled with the heavy ass tank, loading them both in my wagon. Before I left, I saw a bullitin board by the front. It had flyers for party rentals and performers. There was a photo of a clown that could do all sorts of tricks, and I knew that would be a fantastic way to draw in young guests! I tore off a copy of his phone number and tucked it in my pocket.
When I arrived home, I organized it in my garage, and after a very long day, went inside to nap on my couch.
---
Scott's POV
I was laying on my couch, snacking on snacky smores and rewatching an old Batman cartoon on DVD. I had watched the movie probably 100 times, but still loved it. The joker was my favourite, everything from his personality to his backstory captivated me, especially the comic books.
I jumped when the phone rang, then rolled my eyes when it was a number i didnt recognize. "hello?"
"Scott Tenorman?". It was a high voice I didnt recognize, a young kid.
"What do you want."
"we just want to let you know, Eric Cartman, the fourth grader, is gonna try and trick you somehow into getting your weiner bitten off by a pony that lives at jenkins ranch." He said quickly.
"how do you know?"
"We're his friends"
"Then why are you telling me this?"
"Because we hate him."
"oh."
"well, just wanted to let you know. bye!"
"bye."
This kid, again? As if on cue, my doorbell rang, and when I opened it, Eric Cartman was standing there. He had a stack of flyers in his hand, offering one to me, along with a little raffle ticket.
"Hi, Scott!" Eric said cheerily.
"What." I responded. I was getting so sick of this fat little asshole.
"I was just stopping by to invite you to my Chilli Con Carnival! It's a chilli cookoff with rides. Everyones coming, and I wanted to drop off your invitation personally!"
"ooh, a chilli carnival? that sounds great." I said flatly.
"There's even gonna be a big surprise, so you won't want to miss it, Scott! Oh, and heres a ticket, good for one free pony ride!"
"Wow, a pony ride. neat."
"oh, it will be very neat, Scott"
"Gosh, chilli, rides, and ponies- what more could I want?"
"A little penis-biting, perhaps?" Eric said softly, but still very audibly.
"what."
"oh, nothing, nothing!"
"So youre coming for sure, Scott?"
"how could I turn it down?"
"Sweet! Killer! Bye, Scott", he said with an innocent smile.
I really didn't want my penis bitten off, and even if it likely wouldn't work, I wasn't gonna risk it. So, I went to my parents, and made up a lie. I said the pony was starving, and needed to escape the ranch, but I had way too much homework to do. They gave me a big hug, and said they were proud of me, and when nighttime hit, left to retrieve the animal. I always wished I had appreciated that interaction more, that I hugged my dad just a little harder, taken a moment to look at my mothers face. I could barely remember it now.
Tomorrow, I would prepare my latest way of embarassing Cartman. The funniest, most humiliating one yet!
--
Erics POV
I had been at Denkins ranch since sunset, eagerly awaiting scotts beloved parents.
"There are violent pony-killers in the area..." I had told Denkins earlier. "They will torture it, tear it apart! You won't even be able to use the meat!"
"No one is killing Janice, not on my watch! I shoot on sight, doesn't matter who they are. I have my signs, and I have my rights.
"Good! I wish you the best of luck protecting your pony... now about the rental for tomorrow."
"You get a corral and the pony. I'll transport all that in my truck and help set it up for an extra $50."
I sat behind a bush, holding my binoculars, and I couldn't contain a smile when I saw the couple near the perimeter of the farm. They held a rope to use as a lead, talking softly between themselves. The wooden fence was fairly short, and I had propped a gate open so they could easily enter, so it was too easy to break in. When they saw the pony, they ran to get her. Without any warning, a shotgun went off about ten times, knocking them both down with impeccable aim.
I watched as Denkins ran over, examining the bodies with a flashlight. When he realized they were innocent, just an unarmed husband and wife, he froze. He shakily dialed the police. He was whimpering over the phone, terrified of being locked up for life. A bit like kyle when he got caught sneaking out to play late at night, it was hilarious! The cops came, the police began the investigation. They bagged the bodies, and left them on the grass while they sat in Jenkins house to talk.
I had brought a dolly, and loaded both bodies on top, before wheeling them towards my house. It was a long, long walk, but worth it for the expression i would later see on Scotts face.
The garage was all set up, a blue plastic tablecloth on the floor and my moms baking pans to hold the important parts, and garbage bags for the useless bits.
I unwrapped Mr. and Ms. Tenorman in my garage. They were pale under the flickering florecent light that hung from the ceiling. I could barely contain my excitement, hopping in place. These were real human beings, covered in real blood... they used to have a real heartbeat, friends, lives... and now they were all mine.
I touched their faces, sticking a finger in mr. tenormans mouth, then cramming one in mrs. tenormans eye, sitting in the socket beside her squishy eyeball. Most people will never have this experience. the ability to play with every inch of the inside and outside of a human being this way! That made me pretty cool.
I ran my nails over Mrs. Tenormans skin, hard enough to break the skin. The blood didnt come out the same as it would a living human being... what would bruising be like? Can dead people bruise...? I spent over an hour cutting, punching, and throwing any hard object I could find at my new playthings, then studying the aftermath.
I got on the floor and straddled Mr Tenormans stomach, my pants getting soaked with the blood that gushed from his bullet wounds. I ran my fingers through his hair, and touched his wide, upturned nose. I pulled up his eyelids, staring at his dark brown eyes. They were so difficult to see this way! I couldve used a tool, a fork or a knife to dig it out, but that would cost me the full tactile experience I desired. Instead, I jammed two fingers in Mr. Tenormans eyesocket, shoving his eye to one side. It was a challenge, especially since I wanted to keep the eye intact, but was ultimately successful. It felt like the world was silent when the optical nerve snapped. It felt like pulling out a baby tooth, the dull snap of human tissue being ripped apart. It was a unique feeling, one that felt sacred. I knew how special it was, and savoured it.
The eye was still damp, and blood dribbled out of the back. I held it up to the light, the brown was much like my own, nearly black indoors, but when in direct light, it showed what looked like small flecks of gold. I carefully set it in a glass pan on the floor, then went back to Mr. Tenorman. Now that I thought about it, his nose was a little bit like mine. I touched my own face, feeling my own features compared to his. He had the gap next to one of his canines, also just like me.
I pulled out the crayon drawing I made, illustrating a human body with small dotted line where I should cut. I wouldnt need the full body for one bowl of chilli, so it would be far easier to saw off the arms and above the hips, and just work with the torso (with the exception of Mr. Tenorman's penis, if course). The hacksaw I stole from Stan's garage was heavy and difficult to use, but did a fantastic job of sawing through the muscle and hard bone. Next, I pulled out a small, but razor sharp knife to open Mrs. Tenorman's chest, and to start removing some bones. I was able to snap some of her ribs, then scrape the inside edges of his body, tossing a couple handfuls into a pretty white baking pan. I spent a while playing with the sinewy muscle and the thick, squishy layers of skin. The blood was making a big mess, but I didnt mind... I loved smearing it on my skin, making shapes on the plastic covered floor. I licked it off my hands, it tasted Sweet and metallic, becoming thick and chunky as it cooled. A ny sane person wouldn't be able to stomach this, and it made me feel badass!
When I sat back down on Mr. Tenorman, I realized minus the mustache and the wrinkles, Mr. Tenorman looked just like Scott... I imagined how awesome it would be to have Scott under me. I had an idea. I licked my fingers clean, then dried them with a paper towel, and made sure my clothes weren't dripping any blood on the floor before walking into the house.
I went upstairs to grab a razor and my Wellington Bear camera. My mom frequently had male guests who left their crap behind, so it was easy to find a razor I could dispose of without arousing suspicion. When I came back downstairs, I wet a paper towel before I returned to the garage. I sat on Mr. Tenorman again, gently wiping his face. "There, all clean" I said softly. After that, I shaved his mustache, unaware at the time that I needed shaving cream. I cut the area above his mouth multiple times, but it looked okay when I cleaned up the blood. Scott had his moms blue eyes, so I would want to include those. As I did with Mr. Tenorman, I picked out her eyes, except instead of setting them aside, I pushed them into Mr. Tenormans empty sockets. He looked just like an older version of Scott.
I grabbed a big handful of innards from his beloved wife, and crammed it in his dry, dead mouth. "Now swallow, you son of a bitch! swallow!" I shoved my fingers in his mouth, pushing the meat down his throat. I imagined scott screaming, choking, struggling. I knew I was more than strong enough to fight him, to keep pushing more and more down Scotts throat. When I was finished playing out my sick fantasy, Mr. Tenormans throat was bursting at the seams, uneven, swollen lumps showed through his now blackish-purple neck. blood stained his teeth. I took probably twenty photos of my creation, unable to stifle a smile.
I looked up, suddenly concious of the loud ticking coming from the clock over the workbench. Time was passing, and I wouldnt have forever to make Scotts gift. A fter throwing in some of Mr. Tenorman to mix with his wife, I ground up the meat with my fingers, removing anything stringy or fatty, then set it aside.
I sighed, staring at the horrible mess I had made. I put three garbage bags inside eachother, then started the difficult task of moving the torsos into plastic bags. The limbs were much lighter. I expertly bunched the bloody tablecloth and crammed that in the bag with the arms. Mr. and Mrs. Tenorman were loaded onto the dolly again, this time in pieces. I wheeled them to the edge of town, where I could bury them in the forest. I left it in a tiny cave, ready for bears or lions or whatever else to tear it open and eat them.
After making my way home again, it was time to make the meat useable. Cooking it was a challenge, as there were no instructions anywhere for cooking human meat. After messing with the oven and checking every other minute, I had made a batch of edible meat. When I took a bite, it tasted a lot like pork. "Now whos a little piggy?" I said softly. When I added a can of beans, some broth, tomato paste, and the various seasonings I bought from the market.
Lastly, I retrieved some parts I saved; one of Mr. Tenormans eyes and Mrs. Tenormans ring finger, the nail polish was still shiney and pink, and the ring was flashy and expensive. I set them both in the chilli, then pressed down so theyd be just an inch below the surface, then shoved Mr. Tenormans penis at the bottom. I wrapped it neatly in plastic wrap, and set it gingerly in the fridge, all ready for my chilli con carnival.
I waited for sunrise, then started inflating all my balloons, tying them to my window sills. I painted all my bannars, and laid them out in the cool wind to dry. At 6 AM, I made all the calls necessary to rent tables and chairs from a company I found in the phone book, and contacted the clown. By the afternoon, after all my hard work, everything would be ready. The employees helped set the tables up, and I taped the plastic cloths over them.
---
Scotts POV
I combed my hair, smiling at myself in the mirror. This was gonna be the best day of my life! That fat little asshole would pay for messing with me!
My pube-filled chilli would be eaten in front of the whole town, and Eric Cartman would realize he was missing his pony, and, in complete humiliation, he would finally accept he lost.
I examined the bowl of chilli one final time, just to be sure no pubes were sticking out, then wrapped it up tightly. When I was satisfied, I left for the first annual Chilli Con Carnival.
Eric had a nice setup, with small booths offering chilli, and presumably rented tables and chairs for guests to sit and taste it. It was decorated with balloons and painted bannars, lights, and wooden signs. There was a little corral with a small pony, 25 cents per ride. I was pulled out of my thoughts when a specific fat little boy wrapped his arm around my hip.
"Scott Tenorman!! How are you, Scott!? Thank you so much for coming!!!"
"I wouldnt miss it for anything!" I said with a fake smile.
"Likewise!" Eric smiled innocently, then took my hand, attempting to drag me to the small corral. "c'mon, youve got to see the pony!!"
Wait a minute... what pony? My parents should have taken it to the animal shelter last night. Sneaky little shit probably picked it back up from there.
"Wait a second-! Don't you want to taste my chilli first?"
"Well- yeah, but there's a special guest arriving, and I want you to be near the pony when they arrive!" he insisted.
"Well, I don't want it to get cold, I think I could win first prize!"
"Okay, Scott- let's go to the judging table, and we'll try the chilli first." he accepted defeat, took my tupperware of chilli, and headed for the judging table. He dished his out, then a third from another contestant.
When I examined the chilli Eric made, it looked entirely ordinary. There were no obvious issues, and judging by his reluctance around the contest, he likely didnt plan anything. I took two bites, and it was entirely normal. In fact, it was very good; the regular beef was replaced with very tender pork, and the seasonings added a nice kick.
"Your chillis good" I said, "but I still think mines better!"
He took one bite of my chilli, then demolished half the bowl in seconds. "It's delicious!"
"Now that you're almost finished, I have something to tell you..." I started, before being interrupted.
"What? That there were pubes in your chilli?" Eric said, making unnerving eye contact. His facial expression was flat and unreadable, unlike anything I had ever seen; it made my stomach turn.
Dammit! Was I eating the pube chilli? It sure didnt taste like it... "what?"
"I'm afraid this isn't your chili, Scott. I switched it with Chef's. It's delicious, Chef. I hadn't planned on that. What I did plan on, however, was that my friends, Stan and Kyle, would betray me and warn you that the Chili Con Carnival was a trap. I assumed that they would tell you that I had trained Denkins' pony to bite off your weiner. What they didn't tell you was that Denkins is a crazy redneck who shoots trespassers on sight. Knowing that you would try and do somethng to the pony, I warned Mr. Denkins that violent pony killers were in the area. I also know that you wouldn't go yourself, for fear of having your weiner bitten off. You would most likely send your parents. And, I'm afraid that when Mr. Denkins spotted them on his property, he shot and killed both your parents." Eric said. He was calm, still staring at me with that horrible gaze. A smile graced his lips as my jaw dropped.
"They was trespassing and I- I was protectin' myself!" He said shamefully.
"my... mom and dad are.. dead?" I barely managed to speak.
I felt my heart sink. This couldn't be real, right? Now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen them all day, not since they left to rescue the pony... but there was no way they... right? No! Eric was a fat, retarded eight-year-old, he couldn't plan any of that.
"I came just in time to see Mr. Denkins giving his report to Officer Barbrady. And of course, to steal the bodies... After a night with the hacksaw, I was all ready to put on my Chili Con Carnival, so that I could tell you personally about your parents' demise! And of course, feed you your chili. Do you like it? Do you like it, Scott? I call it, "Mr. & Mrs. Tenorman Chili.""
"I came just in time to see Mr. Denkins giving his report to Officer Barbrady. And of course, to steal the bodies" he continued. "After a night with the hacksaw, I was all ready to put on my Chili Con Carnival, so that I could tell you personally about your parents' demise! And of course, feed you your chili. Do you like it? Do you like it, Scott? I call it, 'Mr. & Mrs. Tenorman Chili.'"
I stared into my chilli, using the spoon to stir it- I had to find something, anything, to prove this was just regular chilli- this couldn't be my parents, it just couldnt! Something pink poked out of the top, and when I pulled it out I expected something harmlessly disgusting. It was a finger, my mothers, complete with her diamond ring. I threw it aside in horror. This- this was real- that was a human finger- and the meat I ate was my mom and dad.
"Oh my god..." I said softly. "oh my god!!"
The shock and numbness was gone. I held the bowl to my chest, the closest I could get to hugging my parents who I betrayed. I vommitted hard, all over my arms and my shirt, it made me so dizzy I couldn't hold myself up, so I buried my head in my arms. I saw spots as I hyperventillated, I swore I was actually dying.
I couldn't see, but I knew Cartman was wearing a shit-eating grin. "nya nya nya nya nyah nyah, I made you eat your parents! Nya nya nya nya nyah nyah!"
"My parents are dead- theyre- theyre gone forever-" I whispered to myself. How could this kid be so okay with this?! With killing two people!! Everyone at the carnival was silent, except for one boy.
"Jesus..." he mumbled.
"Um, excuse me?", a voice asked from behind me. It sounded a lot like a guy from his absolute favourite band, a smooth voice he always loved listening to it on interviews.
"Who are you?" the same young boy asked.
"We're that band, RadioHead.", a voice that sounded like John's said.
I raised my head to look behind me, snot, tears, and vomit running down my face. "Jesus!" Unfortunately, that was my favourite band in the whole world staring at me. I quickly turned away, then dried my face with my sleeves. The nerves almost made me throw up again, I bit my lip to stop crying. Maybe today would have just one okay thing about it.
"Jeez, what a lit'l crybaby." Ed said.
Colin cut in, sounding frustrated. "Are you gonna cry all day, Crybaby?"
"You know, everyone has problems; it doesn't mean you have to be a little crybaby about it." Thom continued.
"Come on, guys, let's go. This kid is totally not cool." I heared Colin say before turning to leave.
"Yeah, that's the most uncool kid I've ever met" Thom said.
Phil leaned in close, glaring at me. "Little crybaby!"
"Oh my god, oh my GOD!! WAIT!!" I screamed, burying my face in my arms. When I stopped biting my lip to let out the sobs I could no longer stifle, blood dripped down my lip, right onto the table.
"yes, yesss! Let me taste your tears, Scott! Mmm, your tears are so yummy and sweet!!" Eric said, yanking my head up by my hair. I felt his hot tongue on my face, licking up my cheeks and deep into the corners of my eyes. I had no will to try and escape him, if I let him do what he wanted, he might leave. I heared only two kids speak, before the crowd began to thin. "Oh, the tears of unfathomable sadness! Mmm- yummy, yummy you guys!"
In a matter of ten minutes, everyone left in discomfort. Eric finally pulled away. "Oh, Scott... you only finished half! Aren't you still hungry?"
"N- no-" I managed. I held my breath, praying he'd leave. "I'm gonna go..."
The young boy pulled out a switchblade. "No, you aren't. That chilli took all night for me to make, and I won't let it go to waste." he said softly. I wasn't ready to die- not like this, anyway. With shakey hands, I picked up the spoon, dipping it into the chilli. I couldn't bring myself to lift it anywhere near my face. Cartman took it from me, then pulled a nearby chair over. "Let me help, Scott." I shook my head desperately, but stopped when the blade broke the skin. Keeping the blade where it was, Eric picked up the spoon, and climbed on the chair. He dipped it deep into the chilli, pulling out a heaping spoonful. "Open wide, Scott."
The smell under my nose alone was enough to have me swallowing back vomit. I physically couldnt open my mouth, no matter how much I knew I needed to. I tried shutting my eyes, I tried imagining it was anything else, but I just couldn't. "p-please-" I whimpered and reached for the spoon, the blade pierced just a bit deeper.
"Open your goddamn mouth!" He said impatiently, like an obnoxious child waiting for his Happy Meal. Eric pried my jaw open with his hand, cramming the metal spoon in. It really tasted like regular chilli, but now that I knew what the meat was, the texture was very wrong. He clamped a hand over my mouth. "Now swallow it!"
My throat was so dry from hyperventillating earlier, I coughed into Erics hand. The food went into my sinuses as I choked, and finally, after a coughing fit, it went to my stomach. My body wanted to reject it, but if I wanted this to end, I knew I'd have to keep it down.
When I opened my eyes, another spoonful was waiting for me. I couldn't handle choking again, so I closed my eyes, and reluctantly opened up my mouth. This time, I swallowed it as fast as I could, without chewing or letting it touch my tounge too long. I took two more before Eric spoke again. "Open your eyes for me, Scott."
I did as I was told, glancing at Eric. He held something close to my face. A white ball? it had a string hanging off of it. when eric turned it, I saw a pupil. It was a dark brown eye, my father's. "I want you to enjoy this. Chew it nice and slow, or I will make you into chilli."
The sight made me vomit all over his hand and my chest, a decent amount stayed in the bottom of my mouth, since I couldn't tilt my head down. "Eric, please- I'll do anything!" I begged. He only tilted the eye closer to my lips, waiting for it to open. The blade cut just a tiny bit deeper, enough to turn a papercut into a wound dribbling blood down my chest. My clenched jaw cracked as I opened it, and the wet, squishy organ was shoved between my teeth. It was warm from being mixed with the chilli. I could even feel the pupil sticking out and touching my tounge. A thin, salty piece of plastic fell off, my dads contact.
"Chew it, nice and slow." Eric yelled in my ear.
I bit down slowly, but my teeth didn't penetrate it. It squished and slid across my tounge until there was a small pop, where the gooey middle spilled on my molars. From then on, I tried to break it up with my molars, shoving my tounge to the other end of my mouth. It was still in three big chunks, plus the liquid in the middle, when I swallowed it. The chunks were too big, and they wouldn't go down fully, they sat as a fat lump in his throat.
Eric laughed loudly. "Oh my god! You look so grossed out dude! I wish you could see your face right now!!"
Of course I was "grossed out"! I just ate my goddamn parents, I was coated in blood, regurgitated human meat, and tears. When he removed the blade from my throat, I let myself collapse on the table. I could finally relax my body and let my stifled sobs escape. I puked up everything I had ate, the hunks of bright white eyeball floated on top of all the barely-digested chilli.
I stayed there until sunset. When the rental company came for the tables and chairs, I was forced to stand up. I supposed I would go home, what else was there to do?