The Meat-eater of Mukherjee Nagar
Every day, chef Drasuta visits the local food market. The market is always bustling with fascinating people. Being around good food and good people fills his heart with immense joy. He is amazed by how the residents of Mukherjee Nagar have such unique tastes and choices.
The one ingredient that makes his blood soar uncontrollably is meat. He loves meat; in fact, his body thrives on it. The sheer sight of the naked flesh of different creatures makes him delirious.
He likes to carry his own cleaver to the market. Of course, he grabs plenty of eyeballs, but chef Drasuta does not trust anyone else to choose his meat. He is very particular about these matters. So, today, when he was out and about to procure items for lunch, he laid hands on the meat of his choice with a song on his lips.
He reached home, with the meat of the day in tow. Chef Drasuta stroked his chin fervently and started talking to himself. But he was unable to concentrate on the recipe. He decided to shut her up with his cleaver. ‘What a noisy one today,’ he muttered.
Then he held the cleaver at a 45-degree angle to the left arm of the girl and thinly sliced it. He proceeded to the right arm and both legs. Then chef Drasuta placed his food on a pristine white plate, sprinkled rosemary all over the top and smeared some blood with a spoon. He placed the plate on the dinner table, with a side of sliced fingers and a glass of red wine.
