Barbecue Bacon Cheeseburger

I sat down at the table, setting my plate in front of me. On it was a thick, juicy slab of a cheeseburger, with strips of bacon on it, and barbecue sauce dripping down the sides, and a helping of fries, each the side of a man's finger.

I lifted up the burger. Sauce was already on my fingers as I took a bite. It was possibly the best thing I ever tasted, and it was my usual order whenever I was at this restaurant. I licked my lips clean of sauce and kept eating, savoring each bite. Once I finished the burger, I ate the fries. Just as good.

After I was full to bursting, I stood up, and saw the manager, a tall, round New-York-Italian guy.

"Hey!" He exclaimed. "Just the guy I was lookin' for."

"Nice seein' you, Tony," I said, grinning ear to ear. "Anything for me today?" The restaurant also served as a deli. Take your pick of their finest meat, and you could take it home. Me being a frequent customer and a friend since childhood of the manager's got me a good discount.

"Yeah, we just got a new shipment. That burger you ordered was fresh from it! C'mon on, pal!"

I followed him into the back, and he closed the door behind him as he fiddled with a lock on another door. Opening it up, I looked around at the meat hanging from the ceilings, ripe for the picking. Now I knew why that burger was so good.

"How about some ribs," I said, pointing to a fat man's corpse hanging from the ceiling by meathooks in his ankles, chunks of flesh already taken off of his bones, his arms and a leg missing.