chillin' and grillin'

TABLE & CODE © SKELLE 2021
"Speech!"

It wasn't often that Macabre decided to make a momentous occasion out of the food he ate. After all, most of what he hunted became fodder for his taxidermy projects - stitching their hides together crudely (after all, no opposable thumbs - that was rough!) in some patchwork quilts that now lay haphazardly in folded heaps to form his equally strange nest. So, when the day rolled on and day fell into a brisk dusk, Mac's stomach was growling; he needed to make something to eat, but for some reason, snarfing down his taxidermy offal leftovers just wouldn't do today. No, he wanted to make a nice roast.

Mac sat and pondered for a good while, mentally putting his thinking cap on as he wondered just how to go about roasting something. Well, clearly you needed to heat it somehow - with fire! He glanced towards the burnt out hole in the ground that he'd used to stretch and cure his hides; they did well with a bit of a flame's heat to mold them into a proper shape. Just being careful, or else they would burn. Well..he had that. Check! He also needed some kind of plate..the cow spotted boy stood up, searching his various wares and the piles of discarded bones and other half-rotted parts, before fishing out a plain wooden plate from beneath one of said piles. Brushing off the fur tufts, he blew on it to get rid of the remaining furry dust before marveling. It was a plain slice from a tree trunk, probably given to him as a chopping block at some point given that it also had a lot of dried blood on it. No matter - this was his roast after all, and nothing would stand in his way! Not even some dried guts and blood.

With a plate ready, he had to mount some sticks to make a spit. Yeah, that thingy to rotate the meat around! With a grin, Macabre set to work fishing around for some evenly-sized pair of sticks he could use. Finding two of them, by some miracle by his den, he stuck them into the earth on each side of the fire pit, ensuring they were well-secured by driving them deep into the dirt with his jaws. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, his tail wagged as he continued to look for his skewering pole, yet another stick that would be the spike that would drive through the actual meat. He found one a little further away (no doubt a rejected scrap from someone else's woodpile), using a sharpened end of a rock to drive away some of the chunks of wood off of each side to try and attempt to make them both spiked on each end. With that decently performed (again, no opposable thumbs, so it was quite the challenge), Macabre set out to find the perfect kill.

He wasn't an exceptionally large wolf, but a mere squirrel or a few mice didn't serve much purpose to him except as appetizers. No, something a tad bigger would have to do. Swiping his tongue across his lips, the mottled boy scanned the rather flat landscape, creeping slow and to the ground. Nearby, a plump rabbit was relishing in the faint reminiscence of summer's greenery, no doubt trying to get its fill before the land was overtaken by the cold. Now that was perfect! Crouching even lower, his belly barely brushed against the ground, hindquarters wriggling slightly in anticipation as he focused his gaze on that rabbit..and only that rabbit. Closer, closer and closer. Finally - he launched himself at the rabbit, hearing it squeak but unable to kick off and away fast enough, just as his jaws wrapped around its neck, his teeth pressing down until the crack of its bones was heard. Feeling it go limp, Macabre carried the poor creature back to his den, smiling proudly as rivets of blood trickled down its body and onto his splotched paws.

Now thoroughly bloodstained, Macabre dropped the rabbit and pulled out his piece of sharpened rock, beginning the unsightly process of skinning it. Working on his taxidermy meant he had much practice in removing a pelt from an animal without damaging it, and rabbit pelts were incredibly useful. Thus, he set aside the pelt, reminding himself to put it to good use later on. Now, the rabbit was raw and fully skinned, leaving only its fleshy form behind. It was plenty meaty and a bit fatty too - even its fat, when melted, would make for some nice candles! A perfect addition to his nice roast.

The rabbit was skewered onto the pointed stick with some effort, placed on the notches of the two ground-sticks he'd fixed to the earth. Now all that was left to do was start the fire - and he always had a set of rocks on hand to kindle the flame. Using some cotton from a birds' nest and dried moss with twigs, he set them as fire fodder in the pit, and began to strike the rocks against each other. Thunk, thunk, thunk! with each strike, more sparks flew until there were just enough to begin conjuring a whisp of smoke. Smoke then became a flame that ensnared the dried tinder, crackling and snarling.

With a fire now brewing, Mac relished in the flame's warmth as darkness filled the skies, the land succumbing to a lightless night with the owls hooting and the wind whistling amongst the plain's tall grasses. He rotated the rabbit a little at a time until the meat turned a crispy golden brown, and the little cup he used to collect its melted fat was full. Perfect for some candles, indeed. His lip-licking became more frequent as the meaty aroma filled the air, and he snapped his jaws at some curious night creatures that were drawn to his feast. No! He only wanted to share with his companions! His fox and tasmanian devil were also hungry, and who was he to deny them a meal?

He tore at the flesh once it was done, giving the meaty chunks to his companions first (because he was so nice, of course). They snarfed down their food readily, and so did Mac, appreciating all the hard work he'd done to make such a lovely roast.

A job well done!


wc: 1051