Serial Killers, Human Flesh, and Volkswagen Beetles

Well, the old Chef hasn’t actually run out of things to say yet, but the idea I had planned for today’s article fell through because of technical issues. I could go ahead and post it, but without pictures, it just wouldn’t be the same, and here at Chainsaw Buffet, we do try to provide quality mystery meat made from only the finest Vietnamese orphans. At any rate, the article scheduled for Friday hasn’t been written yet, so I’m going ahead and posting my “backup” article, which is an edited version of a rant I posted a few years ago. Fortunately, its sick humor has aged relatively well. Those of weak constitution and/or allergies to midgets may want to skip this one (of course, anyone with a weak constitution has probably already fled this site, and 90% of our users have a midget fetish, so we’re okay there).

It strikes me that there are things that we wonder about that maybe it’s best if we just never try to find out. Things like “how many college students can fit into a VW Beetle?” That’s one puzzler that was popular in the 60’s. Lots of folks tried to find the answer. All it really gets you is a busted-up Bug and a place in the Guinness Book of World Records. Well, that and painful humiliation when somebody shows you up by fitting a midget in the glove compartment to break your record.

There are just some things that Man Was Not Meant To Know. I write it like that because that’s the way I hear it in my head, with the capital letters. Unfortunately, it’s impossible to put in the cool echo sound effects that I hear in my head when I think it (but then, the Chef is known for his senility). But anyway, there’s plenty of stuff that we’re just better off not trying to find out. That doesn’t stop me from wondering, though.

Gene Simmons once said that, intellectually speaking, he wondered what human flesh would taste like. I have to admit, Megatongue does pose an interesting question, although I’m not likely to kill someone and barbecue them to get an answer. If I knew that human meat tasted good enough to be worth the jail time, I might try it. But I’m not going to jail over something that doesn’t taste that good.

I suppose that human wouldn’t really taste like anything special – meat is meat, after all. If I had to guess, I would say that humanity would taste something like pork, since pigs are omnivores like we are. That, or, more likely, like monkey, but since it’s hard to get monkey meat in this country, I haven’t tried that. Or maybe chimpanzee.

Eat more vegans - the King commands it.

One thing to ask, of course, is who you’re eating. Most meat species are herbivores, since they tend to taste better. So ironically, vegetarians would probably be the best eating. You really probably wouldn’t want to eat someone like me, for example – too much fat and cholesterol. There’s irony in the fact that the Chef’s life of sloth and high-fat foods guards his health against cannibals. A word of warning here, guys – if your wife or girlfriend suggests you try an all-vegetarian diet, she might not be concerned about your health. She may well be just trying to fatten you up.

I wonder if anybody ever asked Jeffrey Dahmer about this. He seems to have preferred young boys; a sort of schoolboy veal, I suppose. If nothing else, it would probably be tender. While nobody in their right mind would really want to take recipe tips from a guy who considers eating out of the coffin to be a box lunch, if somebody’s going to do us the favor of dining on human flesh, by all means we should take advantage of it to answer some burning questions like this.

There’s another thing. People just don’t put their heart into killing anymore. Every so often, you hear about workplace shootings, but those are really getting clichéd by now. Another shooting spree at work? If you’re going to go postal, at least do it with style.

For example, there was a news article a few years ago about a schizophrenic man working at a grocery store. Reportedly, he was a nice guy, aside from having entire conversations with himself (considering that the Chef has entire conversations with himself, this may not be the best sign for the rest of the Buffet staff). One day, the man abruptly quit, and the next came to work wearing a trench coat and carrying a katana. He killed three people before police shot him down. Apparently, he was a big fan of the Highlander movies (You know, Highlander, Highlander: The Final Dimension, and Highlander: Endgame. There is no such thing as Highlander 2.). That’s got be a humiliating way to die, lying in a pool of your own blood, with a schizophrenic guy standing over you, waving a sword and yelling, “There can be…only one!” Needless to say, this man was an original. If you’re going to go off the deep end, do it right.

Not that I plan on ever going postal at work, wielding a sword or otherwise. Eating human flesh, on the other hand….if anybody knows a reputable source, drop me a line. Some boiled baby would be delicious; quite a modest proposal, don’t you think? Especially with a nice Chianti. But, please, no fava beans. They give me gas.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go figure out how to fit a midget into the trunk of a VW…

About The Chef

The Chef was born 856 years ago on a small planet orbiting a star in the Argolis cluster. It was prophesied that the arrival of a child with a birthmark shaped like a tentacle would herald the planet's destruction. When the future Chef was born with just such a birthmark, panic ensued (this would not be the last time the Chef inspired such emotion). The child, tentacle and all, was loaded into a rocket-powered garbage scow and launched into space. Unfortunately, the rocket's exhaust ignited one of the spectators' flatulence, resulting in a massive explosion that detonated the planet's core, destroying the world and killing everyone on it.

The Chef.
Your host, hero to millions, the Chef.
Oblivious, the dumpster containing the infant Chef sped on. It crashed on a small blue world due to a freakish loophole in the laws of nature that virtually guarantees any object shot randomly into space will always land on Earth. The garbage scow remained buried in the icy wastes of the frozen north until the Chef awoke in 1901. Unfortunately, a passing Norwegian sailor accidentally drove a boat through his head, causing him to go back to sleep for another 23 years.

When the would-be Chef awoke from his torpor, he looked around at the new world he found himself on. His first words were, “Hey, this place sucks." Disguising himself as one of the planet's dominant species of semi-domesticated ape, the being who would become known as the Chef wandered the Earth until he ended up in its most disreputable slum - Paris, France.

Taking a job as a can-can dancer, the young Chef made a living that way until one day one of the cooks at a local bistro fell ill with food poisoning (oh, bitter irony). In a desperate move, the bistro's owner rushed into one of the local dance halls, searching for a replacement. He grabbed the ugliest can-can dancer he could find, and found himself instead with an enterprising (if strange) young man who now decided, based on this random encounter, to only answer to the name “Chef".

His success as a French chef was immediate (but considering that this is a country where frogs and snails are considered delicacies, this may or may not be a significant achievement). Not only was the Chef's food delicious, it also kept down the local homeless population. He rose to the heights of stardom in French cuisine, and started a holy war against the United Kingdom to end the reign of terror British food had inflicted on its citizens.

When the Crimean War broke out around France, the Chef assisted Nikola Tesla and Galileo in perfecting the scanning electron microscope, which was crucial in driving back the oncoming Communist hordes. It would later be said that without the Chef, the war would have been lost. He was personally awarded a Purple Heart by the King of France.

After that, the Chef traveled to America, home of such dubious culinary delights as McDonald's Quarter Pounder With Cheese. He immediately adopted the Third World nation as his new home, seeing it as his job to protect and enlighten it. When the Vietnam War began, he immediately volunteered and served in the Army of the Potomac under Robert E. Lee and General Patton. During the war, the Chef killed dozens of Nazis, most of them with his bare hands.

Marching home from war across the floor of the Atlantic Ocean, stark-naked and freezing, the Chef wound up on the shores of Mexico. He spent several years there, drinking tequila with Pancho Villa and James Dean. He put his culinary skills to the test when he invented the 5,000-calorie Breakfast Chili Burrito With Orange Sauce (which is today still a favorite in some parts of Sonora).

Eventually, the Chef returned to his adopted home of America, where he met a slimy, well-coiffed weasel who was starting up a new kind of buffet - one dedicated to providing the highest-quality unmentionable appetizers to the online community. The Chef dedicated himself to spreading the word of his famous Lard Sandwich (two large patties of fried lard, in between two slices of toasted buttered lard, with bacon and cheese), as well as occasionally writing about his opinions on less-important topics than food.

Every word of this is true, if only in the sense that every word of this exists in the English language.