You leave the eery, bizarre appartment with mixed feelings storming in your chest. On the one hand, you really did want to get your titties and arse cooked and eaten, but on the other, you really did not. You laugh a nervous laugh. It's weird how mysterious the human psyche can be... How awfully weird...
You stay in a motel. You read a cook book for amateurs, the only item of literature placed in the shelf of your room. You listen to the radio. An interview of some female celebrity is currently on, but the signal is weak and you barely hear any of it. You try to phone your partner, that uncivilized chump with whom you had oral sex with last night, but shit, the dork does not pick up. Eventually, you make your bed and switch off the lights. Over the course of the entire night you manage to get two hours of sleep.
The years pass. You get almost everything in your life but one vital thing is missing no matter what you do. You feel broken and incomplete. You never get a confirmation that you actually do taste good.
This was one branch of the story.
Would you like to start again?
