“Waitress, there’s a fly in my soup.” Consider yourself lucky if that’s all you find.
From the roadside, Glutton’s looks like any other diner. Once you enter that all changes. Inside you meet a crass waitress, barking orders to the kitchen and delivering meals to the customers. Customers that are slumped over the counter.
Are they asleep? Are they DEAD? From the kitchen window comes the stench of burnt meat. Down the hall and into the kitchen you meet the proprietor, Glutton. Shod in his chef’s coat, he keeps the orders filled. But what was that on the plate? Was that a finger? Where is he getting his meat?
Behind the diner is his source, the Slaughterhouse. Animals being butchered. Their meat hanging from the hooks, waiting to be used. Was that a head hanging next to the pig carcass? As you pass through the bowels of the processing area, you come across the truth. Not only are animals being carved for their meat, but there are bodies awaiting the same fate. Head for the loading dock to make your escape. Do not delay, or you may be tomorrow’s blue plate special.
