Once upon a time in a land forgotten by time,
there lived a clown of peculiar taste called Charlie.
Charlie was infamous in his age.
Charlie the Triple C was what people called him.
Dressed in a suit dyed black,
skin a ashy white, lips and nose a dark red,
eyes…sown shut.
Charlie the Cannibalistic, Culinary Clown,
a feared serial killer of his day.
His fall; a single act of kindness
betrayed through manipulation.
An orphan boy once his apprentice
exploited by their targets;
turned on his master.
Charlie, beaten and starved merely smiled at the irony.
His brother turned lover led astray
by the good people of the village.
Yet Charlie felt no anger towards his beloved,
only pity at their loss of warmth.
In a village of rapists and corruption,
the Clown’s motif; poetic justice.
A village that cannibalized innocence;
themselves cannibalized by vengeance.
Charlie’s favorite and last meal;
Pasta prepared by his cherished one.
A macabre facsimile of tagliatelle al ragu, no doubt.
Tripe for the pasta with a blood and offal sauce…
Bon appetit!
1 comment
I have an odd craving for spaghetti bolognese after reading this. Perhaps I can break my “no red meat” policy for this one dish…