“N-n-no sir, right away sir!”
Leaping from his chair, Magnum hurried from the room and back down the rickety stairs. Even from all the way down the hall, he could hear the ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk of the butt-cutter’s blade being tested by maintenance. Rounding the corner he could see the entire conveyor line shut down, his co-workers impatiently sucking down cans of Diet Anti-Rad Kola, nervously smoking and visibly annoyed. As he increased his pace he could hear the cruel murmurs and feel the looks of disdain burning into the back of his skull. He knew they hated him; that they thought he was a simpleton, incapable of being a real man and standing up for himself. Perhaps someday he would prove them wrong.
Sliding a freshly carved torso into the slot, he yanked the lever and watched the blade sever the lower section, or “butt,” from the torso, sending it down the line to the top round carver. He snagged the freshly shortened torso with his meat hook and dragged it to the ribbing chute where he was prepared to send it thru when a something caught his eye. Across the back shoulders of what once must have been a muscular man it read, “THUG LIFE” in tattooed Old English lettering. What an odd name, he thought.
“Hey, Maggie, what did Drummond want?”
Magnum turned to see his friend Lamont Sanford leaning over the conveyor, looking for a juicy scoop to run to co-workers with in the cafeteria over tea and finger sandwiches. Shaking his head, he pushed the tattooed torso thru the chute and lined up another.
“He just wanted to congratulate me on meeting quota.”
“Liar.”
“I’ve asked you before not to call me Maggie.”
“Sam says brass is considering firing your ass.”
“Sam Malone is an alcoholic; I wouldn’t believe everything he says. The next thing you know he’ll be telling you elephants exist.”
Magnum pulled the lever. KA-CHUNK.
“So is everything set, you know, with Maude? Is she gonna to be okay with me dropping by tonight?”
Despite the presence of a huge smile, desperation was written all over Lamont’s face. He’d never truly gotten over his wife’s sterility or subsequent suicide and, at this point, any old wet cock garage would do. Magnum was tempted to tell him no, that his Mother found him repulsive and wouldn’t ride a withered dick like his if you paid her, but that simply wasn’t true. He sheepishly nodded.
KA-CHUNK.
“Score! Is she finally going to let you join us this time?” Lamont asked.
“I have work to do, just be at my place by eight o' clock. Don’t be late, she hates that.”
Lamont gave him the customary middle finger and sauntered away with a self-satisfied cat-ate-the-canary look on his face, leaving Magnum to his usual silent pity party. He knew why his Mother never let him participate and it bothered the hell out of him. Despite proving to her on numerous occasions that he was fully capable of achieving erection, something that was in exceedingly short supply in the male populace, she seemed totally unconvinced of his ability to actually use it. He’d even jerked off in a pair of her panties one day just to show her; he could but she simply pulled them on and went about her day as if they weren’t soaked in cum.
As he continued thinking about his Mother, he could feel his cock stiffening, straining against his codpiece.
It sure is hot in here.
WHAM!
The sound of the butt-cutter jamming up made Magnum’s heart feel like it would leap from his chest out of fear; he’d done it again and pulled it too early. Before he could reach for the blade or pull the mulched torso free, Drummond’s voice bellowed from the speaker…
“Go home for the day, ya re-mo flugger!” Snickering broke out down the conveyor line.
Untying his apron and yanking off his gloves, Magnum grabbed his coat and headed straight for the factory door before Drummond decided to venture down the stairs to berate him in front of the other workers. He just didn’t have his head in the game today; his thoughts kept going back to the night before when he’d walked in on Drummond savagely plunging his Mother’s puckered anus, the smell of sweat, shit, and cheap cologne drifting up to meet his nostrils.
After hundreds of years of fallout, how is it that troll escaped erectile dysfunction?
Crossing the street from the factory, he stepped up to his back porch but stopped short of opening the door and strolling in like usual as he could hear of one of his Mother’s sessions ending. No matter how many times he’d experience it throughout the years, he just couldn’t get used to the sobbing of full grown men usually accompanied by the thwap, thwap, thwap of their testicles slapping her taint as they fruitlessly pounded away with nothing but flaccid cocks. After everything man had survived as a species, it was still on the verge of extinction and successfully fertilizing an embryo was like winning the biggest lottery in history or having God herself smile down on you. Even if they could get it up, they were rarely able to finish the job.
Suddenly the door flew open and a large, sweaty man charged thru while buttoning his dress shirt, knocking Magnum to the side and nearly off the porch.
“Get outta my fluggin’ way!” The ‘John’ blustered, stomping down the stairs and off into the back alley.
Shaken but unharmed, he entered the house; the musky fragrance of his mother’s wet cunt hung heavy in the air, almost overpowering the mouth-watering aroma of a roast in the oven. Setting his keys down on the table he headed for the living room where his mother was making herself comfortable on the sofa with a smoke and soda.
“Home so soon? You didn’t get reassigned did you?” She asked while lighting the smoke.
“No there were problems with the machine so they let me go early. So, dinner smells good.”
“Don’t lie to me young man, and don’t change the subject. Arnold called and told me you’d be on your way back and that you were daydreaming again. What has gotten into you lately?”
He looked down at his blood-soaked work boots and wondered whether he’d left fresh tracks on the kitchen floor. She hated when he did that.
“It’s nothing; I’ve just been having a hard time concentrating lately.”
“Have the headaches returned?” She asked.
Magnum shrugged his shoulders and plopped down on the sofa next to her. She was a damn good-looking woman, he thought. She looked at least 10 years younger than her actual age, with a slender waist, round ass and full breasts that often swayed back and forth when she cleaned or exercised, she was actually quite stunning. He found himself fantasizing about her all the time, especially during his frequent daily trips to the evacuation compartment.
“I spoke with Lamont a bit ago, it’s all settled for tonight. He’ll be here around eight.”
“That Sanford boy never ceases to amaze me. He’s fertilized three so far, two more and I get a bonus from the department. Such a shame about his wife,” She said shaking her head, “Well I’d better go clean up.” Standing up she let her robe slip from her shoulders and to the floor, her hard, pink nipples jutted out, almost poking Magnum in the eyes.
“There’s roast in the oven. Help yourself but leave me some.”
Sweat rolled down his forehead, his throat tightened up and his cock began to throb.
“Help myself indeed.” He mumbled beneath labored breathing.
That night after a hearty meal Magnum retired to his quarters early, to prepare for the night but he could already hear racket coming from the quarters down the hall and he knew sleep wouldn’t easily come to him this time around. These days it seemed that he could think of nothing but his mother, her well-traveled vagina and how many positions she was able to flug in. He wasn’t interested in romance, he loved his mother but not in that way, he just wanted to flug, hard and fast. Though she was paid by the Department of Procreation to have sex for the purpose of fertilization, Magnum couldn’t help but wonder whether she considered it her patriotic duty or she actually liked to flug and get compensated for it.
SQUEAK!
Let the games
begin!
SQUEAK!
He’s really on a roll now!
SQUEAK! SQUEAK!
Thankfully Lamont wasn’t one to waste good vagina-pounding time with pillow talk or foreplay, it was already four minutes after eight and he was well on his way to being finished.
SQUEAK! SQUEAK! SQUEAK!
“Come on honey, pop that cork and fill up my glass! Treat me like your wife! FLUG ME GOOD, QUEER BAG!” She hollered.
SQUEAK! SQUEAK! SQUEAK! SQUEAK! SQUEAK! SQUEAK!
For a split second there was nothing but silence, then a deafening roar of release from Lamont as he coated her insides with his runny fluids. His howl was quickly accompanied by the sound of several hard, open-handed slaps rained down on Maude. Over and over again he heard it; it seemed like more than a dozen or so times. Her cries of pain brought on a primal pounding deep within Magnum's skull, a white-hot rage seared away behind his eyes causing him to see stars and the veins in his neck pulsed with an ever-rising blood pressure.
Throwing off the covers and jumping out of his sleeping module, he raced down the hall and hurled himself against the door, throwing it wide open. His mother, crouched on all fours, had vivid red hand prints covering her back and mascara running down her face from the tears. Lamont looked up and realized he’d been caught red-handed, so to speak, as his right hand was buried deep in her ass, with each violent thrust forward it disappeared a bit more followed by tortured gagging and drooling from a traumatized Maude.
“Maggie, get out! What the flug man! I get the entire hour!”
Magnum grabbed an illumination unit off the dresser and charged him, slamming it into the side of his head with the heavy brass base. Lamont immediately went limp and crumpled to the floor, the momentum yanking his shit-covered hand from its anal hidey-hole, leaving a gaping maw that snapped shut like the shutter on a camera. The body had barely hit the carpeting before Magnum was on him, pounding his head over and over again.
A sickening hiss could be heard as blood forced its way out of the cracks in Lamont’s skull, spraying Magnum in the face and painting the ceiling a bright red. The hissing soon gave way to a loud crunching which, in turn, gave way to a squishy sound as brain matter pulped and wads of hair and flesh flew about the room, landing on everything from the cherry wood vanity to Maude’s exposed asshole. As the burning in his head subsided, so did the barbaric onslaught, he let the meat-covered illumination unit drop next to a pile of mangled flesh and teeth, the remnants of Lamont’s smarmy face and head.
“What have you done?” Maude whispered.
“I don’t know.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I DON’T KNOW!”
Magnum buried his face in his hands and began crying like a baby, he knew taking a life for any reason other than consumption was one of the gravest offenses in the New New World…it was blasphemy. The punishment for it was too terrifying to even think about. Both he and his mother would be arrested, their living unit would be confiscated and they would meet their ends in an excruciating process that slowly liquefies the human body. Their biological slush would then be heated, poured into molds, cooled and packaged as delightful little picnic wieners. Everybody seems to like them with mustard.
Maude crawled from the sleeping module and stood up, cum oozed from her vagina and pooled on the floor, mixing with the contents Lamont’s spurting arteries. Fitting. Flicking pieces of pink skull from her legs and arms she placed a hand on Magnum’s head.
“Maybe…maybe if we just tell them he attacked me.”
He looked up at his mother, “They won’t care! You know they won’t care.”
“What if we prepared him like any other meal, consumed him? How would they know?” She asked.
“He was scheduled for a procreation session. You’ll be the first person they look at. The minute he doesn’t run his I.D. at work they’ll start sniffing around and- wait... unless…”
Sliding off of the body, Magnum began rooting around in the corpse’s pockets. He quickly pulled out a wallet and frantically flipped thru the plastic pockets. Turning the wallet for his mother to see, he pointed at Lamont’s I.D. card.
“What if…what if we…HE…did register his I.D.? Who’s to say he didn’t show up but left before the morning shift? He sometimes does nighttime maintenance work for extra compensation credits.”
“So we register his I.D. and then come back and consume him?”
“No mom, look, we bring his I.D. and body to the factory. Nobody is there right now; everything running at this time is automated meat sterilizers. I can register the card and then we can send him thru the line. I know how to run all of the machines myself.” They both stared at one another, each calculating the risk of getting caught and reward if they didn’t.
He continued, “Once we’re done we come back here and clean up. It’ll look like he finished up with you, went to the factory for whatever reason and left. Where he went from there would be anybody’s guess.”
Without waiting for further clarification, Maude hurried to the kitchen and came back toting a roll of plastic refuse bags and some twine for roasts.
“We can wrap him up with this.” She said.
Magnum smiled. He’d never found his mother more beautiful than he did in that moment.
Waiting for the city's massive turbine power plant to shut down for its scheduled 10 minute recharging, which happened every-hour-on-the-hour, seemed like an eternity but right on schedule, as always, the bio-dome went dark, allowing them to struggle across the street with the plastic-wrapped body in relative safety. Once at the factory entrance, they set the body down and Magnum took out Lamont’s I.D. from the sticky wallet, running it thru the registration node. A robotic voice confirmed:
LAMONT SANFORD, MALE OFFSPRING OF FRED G. & ELIZABETH. YOUR CHECK IN TIME IS 21:09 PM. PLEASE DO NOT FORGET TO ENTER THE DECONTAMINATION CHAMBER ONCE SUITED UP. THANK YOU AND HAVE A PRODUCTIVE NIGHT.
The node emitted a short beep and the door unlocked with a click, Magnum hurriedly propped it open with Lamont's wallet, wedging it in the jamb, while Maude dragged the corpse's legs toward the door. Together they picked it back up and hustled their grisly package into the factory and, with much effort, onto the conveyor. The first machine on the line, the ABED-3 often referred to as the “DEADHEAD-FREE,” was designed to remove craniums cleanly, the first step in meat's preparation from farm to factory to dinner plates all across the dome.
“Mom, you unwrap him while I turn the line on. I've seen this done a thousand times so this shouldn't take too long.”
With the flick of a few switches, the conveyor jerked to life and Magnum instinctively threw an apron over his head and pulled on some gloves. He carefully positioned the body and made sure his hands were clear and pulled the lever. With a mighty KA-CHUNK the remainder of Lamont's mutilated head was cleanly severed. Never had that sound been so welcome to Magnum's ears. Once the blade was safely retracted, the belt began moving the body down the line to the next machine. He quickly stuffed the neck stump and lower jaw into a small vacuum tube that sucked the parts off to a mulching mechanism.
Grabbing his mother's hand they made their way down to the next machine and, once again, slid the body into place. The JOHNSON LIMB REMOVER separated arms and legs in a two-fold cutting process and much to Magnum's satisfaction did not have a silly nickname give to it by bored co-workers. Looking back at his mother for some sign of approval he was met with nothing but a blank stare, the stare of an empty shell. He knew he was on his own from here on in. Reaching over, he yanked the lever down.
KA-CHUNK! SHOOSH!
First the legs and then the arms. He snatched up the four amputated limbs and pushed them into the blood-caked limb chute for later, he'd have to come back and break the limbs down to regulation-sized sections before finishing up. Turning to grab his mother and move on to the ABC Machine he stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes locked with the beady orbs of none other than Arnold Drummond. The awkwar
d silence was unbearable, as if all three were in some sort of suspended animation. His face and shirt were smeared with blood and he was carrying a bag overflowing with bits and pieces of pilfered flesh. He'd obviously been helping himself to some of the factory's high-end inventory, the choice bits of flesh set aside by factory management for government personnel only.
“What are you two doing in here?” Drummond asked, still chewing an uncooked morsel.
“What are you doing here?” Magnum shot back.
“I'm the fluggin' manager!”
“When did Manager's start helping themselves to unauthorized portions?”
“I saw what you did, re-mo. Maybe I go to the Authority and finger you two.”
“Do you plan on cleaning up first? I hear Authority Officers frown on flesh theft.”
“Flug you, you little shit!”
More staring, then more silence. The two found themselves at an impasse, neither wanted the Authority getting involved but, as Magnum knew full well, only one of them faced processing. At the very worst Drummond would be fired and his ration card decreased for a few years, Magnum had to hope that that would be enough to strike up a mutually beneficial deal for the both of them. Drummond could continue sneaking flesh and he could get away with murder. Yeah, that sounded fair enough.
“What if you didn't see us here,” Magnum asked, “and we just call it even?”
“You mean you go your way-”
“Yes.”
“And I go mine?”
“Exactly.”
“No deal.”
“What's it going to take then?”
Drummond began laughing hysterically. He casually dropped the bag on the ground and stomped on it, sending flesh and blood in all directions. Licking his lips, he looked Maude over from head to toe.
“How about you sweeten the deal with the licensed whore?”
Masters of Taboo Presents: Cannibalism, Digesting The Human Condition (Limited Edition) Page 12