Wednesday, 22 January 2014

Dinner Time



Go thou and watch her lightest sigh,—
Thine own it will not be;
And bask beneath her sunny eye,—
It will not turn on thee.

’Tis well: the rack, the chain, the wheel,
Far better hadst thou proved;
Ev’n I could almost pity feel,
For thou art nor beloved.

Revenge by Letittia Elizabeth Landon



birdbox (by jfwalls deviantart.com)




The Last Supper


Dinner Time.

One of the most popular reality TV shows on the ABC Network.

A show that regularly pulled in tens of millions of viewers and was watched in forty countries worldwide.

Five nights.

Five dinner guests.

Five lives.

One big cash prize.

It was the final night to an eventful week.

The most bizarre week of all.

A week full of thinly veiled bitchiness, false sentiments, mindless banter and devious scoring as one dinner guest strove to outdo the other.

And get the prize.

All the guests were secretly filmed telling the camera what they really thought of each other.

Most of it would have to be edited out later because it was deemed far too blue and too malicious to air.

So far one of the guests had actually disappeared.

One minute they were there.

And the next minute they were gone.

Not that anyone noticed.

Or cared.

Tonight it was the turn of Archie Ball.

Ball was short and unprepossessing.

He was a grey little man with clear blue eyes and a mop of sandy coloured hair.

Now he was quietly and surreptitiously putting the finishing touches to his main meal - Hungarian Goulash with wild rice and seasonal vegetables.

Back in the dining room his three dinner guests were waiting impatiently for their meal.

Candy Duvall drummed the side of her glass.

She let out another theatrical sigh.

As she batted her eyelashes in the direction of the only eligible male in the contest.

Candy Duvall was skinny and petite with cold, blue eyes and dyed peroxide blonde hair.

Dinner for Two (by TheOtherCastle deviantart.com)
The orange tanned, cosmetically enhanced Duvall described herself as a "glamour model" and an occasional exotic dancer.

Apart from winning the money and going on "holiday" to Ibiza  - the dimwit was hoping to meet a "fit man" on the show.

So she had been making eyes at Jamie Downes all week.

So far he hadn't shown any interest.

Sitting beside her was larger-than-life mother of five - Sharon Reece.

She was small and plump and had a round face, sharp hazel eyes and curly brown hair.

Sharon Reece wasn't pretty.

She was a brassy outspoken pub landlady.

Everything about her was loud - including her enormous laugh.

All week Sharon Reece had been vociferously excusing her latent insensitivity with "I'm just blunt - that's me".

The explanation was clearly a euphemism for being rude and having no consideration for anybody else's feelings.

But Sharon Reece didn't care about anyone's feelings.

She was not there to make friends and influence people.

She was there to win.

And judging by the competition - she suspected that she had a pretty good chance.

Sitting opposite the women was the strapping IT consultant - Jamie Downes.

He was a tall, blond and blue-eyed cock of the walk.

But Downes cute baby face hid a reptilian nature.

And a ruthless determination to win.

Downes had been silently eyeing up the competition over the last few days.

And he had come to various conclusions.

Sharon Reece was just a fat loudmouth with no class.

Candy Duvall was a stupid tart who probably couldn't even spell her own name.

While the missing contestant had probably been put back into daycare.

The present host was a fucktard who should have been given a lethal injection.

Jamie Downes believed that he was the only person who deserved to win.

But he was not quite as clever as he thought he was.

If you scratched the surface a little bit you would find a little boy trying to be a man.

The empty space beside him should have been filled by Maurice Bay - an unemployed former bus conductor.

Nobody knew what had happened to him since he hosted the first night.

And nobody appeared to be bothered by his absence.

Marice Bay was a bit of an odd ball.

But not nearly as weird as their current cost.

The remaining contestants had enjoyed ridiculing the sickeningly nice Archie Ball all week.

He was always going to be an easy target for them.

Maybe it was his squeaky voice.

Or his strange looks.

Perhaps it was the fact that he appeared to have no notable personality whatsoever.

Or any sense of humour.

Maybe it was because he kept staring at Candy Duvall's inflated breasts.

The three contestants were dressed in their glittering finest and sitting around the big dining table.

Waiting for Archie Ball to bring out their dinner.

As the interminable time stretched out before them.

They were making the kind of remarks that would be TV gold when the show was edited carefully together later.

You could almost hear the production team rubbing their hands together.

"How long is this frigging meal going to take?" Candy Duvall exclaimed angrily.

"I bloody hope its worth it!" Retorted Sharon Reece.

"I could eat a bloody horse!" Duvall declared dramatically.

"I'm so hungry I could eat Archie Ball!" Sharon Reece retorted loudly.

Both the women cackled together like a couple of witches.

"He's a just little freak!" Jamie Downes asserted nastily "The sort of weirdo you cross the road to avoid!"

He poured himself some more wine and languidly sat back in his chair.

Candy Duvall caught his eye and pouted meaningfully at him.

She looked like a blow up doll.

Jamie Downes managed a wink.

He didn't do the cheap hooker variety.

But he was game for a laugh.

"And here we are - about to eat his sodding food as well!" Candy Duvall guffawed.

She grabbed the bottle and poured a copious amount of wine into her glass.

Jamie Downes looks at her slyly.

Noticing how large her breasts were through the corner of his eye.

"She's a slag but she'll do for a quick shag"

But the high flyer quickly stamped on the idea.

He had some principles after all.

The camera zoomed in on Candy Duvall's huge bust.

Earlier it lingered on her bottom as she sashayed into the dining room in her tight blue evening dress.

She'd been playing up to the camera all week.

Candy Duvall made compelling viewing.

A grotesque with no self awareness.

And no off switch.

Everyone appeared to be laughing together at a big collective joke.

Blissfully unaware that behind each others backs they had been ferociously tearing one another apart.

And scoring each other as poorly as they could.

Sharon Reece secretly detested Candy Duvall.

But all week she had melodramatically behaved as if they were the best of friends.

She had been laying it on with a trowel.

Piling on the false affection.

Whilst stabbing her in the back.

The self styled "glamour model" was too stupid to comprehend it.

Sharon Reece sneered at Duvall through gritted teeth.

Wondering how long she could endure her.

"What a slag"

Candy Duvall looked at Reece and flashed her a big bright smile - showing impossibly white teeth.

She despised her.

As far as Candy Duvall was concerned - Sharon Reece had committed the cardinal sin.

She had grown really fat.

Candy Duvall would never let herself go like that.

And if that wasn't bad enough - Sharon Reece couldn't dress for shit and she had a big plain face and big mouth.

"What an ugly old bitch"

The two women continued to grin inanely at each other.

But the main object of everyone's ridicule was Archie Ball.

The man who was about to quietly serve up their last meal.

Their last supper.

"You alright in there love?" Sharon Reece shouted out in the direction of the kitchen.

Archie Ball had barely said a word all week.

The two women smiled slyly to each other.

Their host was too weak to answer them back.

A weedy little loser.

"Need some help?" Candy Duvall added sarcastically.

"I'm nearly ready!" Archie Ball piped up.

The two women giggled.

"Thank fuck for that!" Sharon Reeces replied sharply.

All three dinner guests cheered out loud.

Before dissolving into fresh laughter again.

They were getting top class entertainment tonight.

"Have you ever eaten that shite he's preparing?" Jamie Downes whispered conspiratorially to his other fellow guests.

"Is it some Russian crap or something?" Candy Duvall asks disinterestedly.

"Hungarian Gulasch!" Jamie Downes informs her.

She looked back dumbly at him.

"Sounds like foreign crap to me!" Candy Duvall retorted with disgust

Skulls (by dennisjunior deviantart.com)
"No - I've never tried it" Sharon Reece declared "But if this hovel is anything to go by it will taste like shit!"

They all agreed.

All three diners looked around the sparsely decorated and furnished dining room.

There was an almost clinical cleanliness to it.

White walls.

And no paintings or photos.

There were no personal touches.

And the room had a weird hospital smell about it.

A disinfectant smell.

"Perhaps Ball keeps his mother body upstairs in the attic!" Jamie Downes asserted with an impish grin.

Candy Duvall shuddered in her chair.

As Sharon Reece shifted uneasily.

There was a large dining table in the centre of the room and several chairs.

A huge silver candelabra with large white candles sat atop it.

Giving the room a Gothic feel.

It was a cold room.

Devoid of any charm.

The kind of room that Jeffrey Dahmer might enjoy ...

Nobody wanted to explore the rest of the house either.

An icy chill descended upon them.

And suddenly all three dinner guests wished they were elsewhere.

Anywhere but there.

"This place gives me the creeps" Candy Duvall murmured as she shivering in her chair "I don't like it here one bit!"

 "I bet Ball is a paedophile too!"  Jamie Downes snarled viciously

All three diners looked up at the camera.

Big brother was watching them.

"This had better be worth it!" Sharon Reece hissed.

The camera man was almost licking his lips with excitement at the footage he had captured.

Several crew members could barely contain their glee.

This was going to beTV magic.

Four losers in one place at one time.

Making television history.

Suddenly Archie Ball made his entrance into the room pushing in a silver trolley which carried the meals.

He was more animated than anyone could ever remember him.

The three diners resisted the temptation to laugh out loud at the sight of the odd little man in an apron pushing a tea trolley.

But it was too comical to resist.

"We almost forgot what you looked like!" Sharon Reece screamed loudly - forcing a big fake smile on her face.

The caustic tone wasn't lost on anybody.

Archie Ball quietly placed each plate carefully on the table.

The meals smelt delicious.

Their host flicked open a lighter and lit the large candles on the candelabra.

It suddenly felt very eerie.

Like he was about to conduct a seance.

There was an audible sense of discomfort in the room.

Everyone fell silent.

Candelabra (by alienstar2004 deviantart.com)
They looked down grimly at the plate before them.

"Can we please say grace?" Archie Ball requested his guests in his little voice as he took his seat at the head of the table.

They all looked back expressionlessly at him.

As if he were about to chant from the Book of the Dead.

"I'm a new atheist!" Jamie Downes blurted out loudly as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Is that different to being an old atheist?" Candy Duvall asked him blankly.

"Go ahead" Sharon Reece encouraged Archie Ball.

Their host lowered his head.

As did the two women.

But Jamie Downes stared resolutely ahead.

"For what we are about to receive ... may the Lord make us truly thankful"   

"Amen!" Archie Balls cried brightly.

"Do we clap now?" Candy Duvall asked.

Nobody answered her.

The three dinner guests were now staring at Archie Ball in stunned awe.

"Tuck in then!" Their host declared "Before it get's cold!"

Slowly they began to eat.

Ball had even thoughtfully provided extra plates for the crew.

So they could enjoy the meal too.

Everyone ate in silence.

As Archie Ball surveyed them with a knowing smile.

And a devilish glint in the eye.

"King of the castle"

One hour later and Archie Ball finally poured himself a glass of chilled Cristal champagne.

He looked triumphantly around him.

All three diners were slumped at the table.

Face down.

Even the camera man had finally stopped twitching on the floor.

He was lying among a mound of twisted bodies.

All dead.

The meal went down well - considering the amount of trouble Archie Ball had sawing through the muscle and sinew of the dead Maurice Bay earlier on.

Ball meticulously planned everything.

He had waited until everyone had departed before garroting Maurice Bay with a piece of twine in his kitchen on the first night.

The unfortunate contestant hardly made a sound.

But later it was tough work chopping him up.

Archie Ball discovered that human meat was so much tougher to cook than animal meat.

But it was ultimately rewarding for him.

He even kept Maurice Bay's eyes in a little box beneath his bed.

As a little keepsake.

Archie Ball poured as much arsenic as he could into the food he served the three remaining diners.

As far as he was concerned - they were all parasites.

They all deserved to die.

The world would be a better place without them.

Now he surveyed their corpses with glee.

A godless fool.

A fat pig.

A brainless whore.

A company of clowns.

Now Archie Ball recalled their dramatic deaths with vindictive glee.

He pondered on their red faces.

Their frothing mouths.

And the wild thrashing about.

Archie Ball was laughing hysterically as they all died violently.

He even spat in their faces.

Archie Ball had been unable to resist laughing uproariously at his tormentors.

He suspected that they would all go straight to hell.

At last Archie Ball could sit back and relax.

The week was finally over.

And even his dead mother had joined them.

Moira Ball had just walked out of the wall.

She surveyed the scene with a smile.

"Did I do well?" Archie Ball asked her.

"Yes son!" His long dead mother replied "You did very well!"

Then the dinner host returned to his dead guests.

As the room became full of people from the past.

"Bottoms up!" Archie Ball exclaimed cheerfully as he lifted his glass to the corpses around him.

Dinner Time.




Skulls IV (by immugraah deviantart.com)

                
                      

No comments:

Post a Comment