Death's on the Table (a "We Write" with @ntowl!)

in #wewrite6 years ago



The Beginning


Michelle was in the kitchen, singing to herself as she surveyed the table. "The cat's in the cradle and death's on the table..."

"You know very well that's not how the song goes!"

Ugh. Poor disillusioned Kelly. Always so disdainful. So high and mighty. Her huffy puffy voice pierced through Michelle's exuberance for the THIRD time that evening and she raised a silver spoon into the air, making little stabby motions with it.

"Kelly, I am actually fully aware of how the song goes... it's called 'artistic liberty'. Besides, in case you haven't noticed, death IS on the table."

"If that's what you want to call it..."

"It's exactly what I want to call it... oh!" Why was she holding a silver spoon? She flung it into the sink, delighting in Kelly's wince as the clank echoed through the room, and grabbed the knife instead. Michelle's father was a butcher and had delivered some prime pork chops earlier that day... uh, also a pig's head. She had no idea why. Did people actually use those things? For eating? This was the future! People didn't eat pig's heads anymore, right?

She would have to investigate, perhaps find a recipe online... she vaguely remembered a cooking show cooking with a head once, or was that feet? Who knew anymore? She never paid that much attention to things and had a bit of a scatterbrain... oh! That's what she could do! It could be a grand prank! If she played her cards right... or played the pig's head right... maybe she could get a new housemate. YES! Ideas were flowing faster than she could think them.
by @kaelci


The Ending

Somehow Michelle made it through dinner. Kelly had thankfully left the room in a typical huff after she'd been subjected to more singing.

But that was Michelle's plan. The pig's head was in the fridge and Kelly had no idea it was there. Now, with silence in the kitchen the plotting in her head could begin in earnest.

With each dish and utensil she cleaned she thought of another gruesome way to use the head to make Kelly move out. Put it her bed, in the bathroom, in the toilet, in her closet, on top of the TV.

Then she thought about cutting the ears and nose off and leaving those in Kelly's makeup bag...that would do it. Snickering, she grabbed a sharp knife and headed for the fridge.

by @ntowl



The @freewritehouse are hosting a "We Write" at the moment! The prompt is - death on the table - a prompt that could summon many, many things... and @ntowl bravely raised her hand and partnered with me for the prompt. And this little story is what resulted!

(You can also find her post behind these blue words!)

I'm not entirely sure where my part of the #freewrite came from. For some reason when I heard "death on the table", I thought it made a good rhyme with the Cat's in the Cradle song. And it all kind of went on from there. I've only had a few housemates in my life and they were all lovely. People I got on well with. And while I've seen pig's heads at the markets, I've never had one myself and wouldn't have a clue how to begin preparing it.

My brain is a weird thing sometimes. ;)

This is my first time partnering with someone for the We-Write, and honestly the first time I've really spoken to someone outside of Steemit itself. I have horrible social anxiety which bleeds into all aspects of my life, real and online, but this morning I took a deep breath, put on my big-girl pants, and put myself out there. And I'm glad I did.

I'm determined to get involved in the Steemit community, and after six months? Now's a good time to start! :D



The image I used for this post is a CC0 image courtesy of Pixabay! and thank you so much for reading! :)


An ancient curse roams Fan’driel and Lyria is the sole survivor of its deathly wake. Borne of a forbidden bloodline, she attempts to build a new life for herself in the Lord’s city without divulging her secret —a magic that serves as both gift and curse— but unable to predict her own fate she finds herself entangled within Fan’driel’s deeper politics as dark powers shroud the land, her hand destined to shape the future… for better or for worse.
Instead of turning my work into an ebook straight off the bat, I'm serialising it! You can find a new chapter each Wednesday at Kaelci.net and the latest chapter (Chapter Two at the time of writing this) is available here on Steemit!



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What to do with a pig's head from Dad the butcher? He should know! :)
Head cheese is not a dairy cheese, but a terrine or meat jelly made with flesh from the head of a calf or pig, or less commonly a sheep or cow, and often set in aspic. If you think canned Spam is disgusting, this looks even worse.

Oh, so that's what you do with a pig's head! Haha!

I live in a heavy pig area. My town holds fame for having the largest pork abattoir in the southern hemisphere... and I see pigs heads alllll the time at the markets. I couldn't help but wonder if people actually bought the things and what they would actually do with them.

Now I know! :D

The Corowa Piggery is the largest in the southern hemisphere, with 45,000 sows (as of 2010). The slaughterhouse/abattoir on the same property is the largest pig abattoir in Australia, with a capacity of up to 1 million kills per year. Well, now I know something new!
My grandma never made head cheese, or it surely would have been fed to me. She did make rinderwurst, which traditionally includes beef tongue and heart,and chuck roast, put through a meat grinder with pepper, onion, and oatmeal, to spread like a meat paste
on pancakes.

Oh, I actually didn't know about that one. Mine is located in a place called Kingaroy - after investigating, it's the largest pork processing plant in the southern hemisphere, not abattoir. Woops. (I blame this article for setting me astray)

Rinderwurst sounds pretty good actually. I'm not sure I can imagine it on pancakes, but, mmm!

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