[IC] Review so far from the Irascible Epicurean

A bothersome issue of a boon to the student body found its way to my office from the efficacious Ms. Styles. Imagine my irritation when I found not one but two missives on the tedious subject. I believe my contempt is well known for the lesser disciplined and garrulous of our student body, and I have displayed no love of such tiresome duties, yet here it was before me.

I, who wasn’t seeking a sniveling sycophant for personal tutelage, was vaguely impressed when neither wurm backed down from my terms.

For the winner a coveted place at my boot, to learn and lick at my heel for the personal experience of a veritable symphony of consumption and want. For the loser who would waste my attention, and would bore me…well, what indeed??

I decided to give them a simple assignment to start, but one based on my personal maxim that The criminal must be worthy of her deed! From the beginning then, for a proper start we would look at Gluttony from the roots, its dear connection too horror that is so misunderstood, so that we might lay the foundation to learn more of its TRUE nature.

To each of my puerile parasites I offered this challenge:
Intrigue me with your genius for Gluttony, and find three different day’s repasts for me.


And thus the aspirants went forth, and my charming contest unfolded.
To the results thus far…


Of Miss Thessa’s suit -

the 1st entrée: An extremely handsome youth of blond with green eyes. A budding darling of a ‘super-hero’. With his perfectly smashed arms and legs, I found him patiently waiting 'quietly' for me at the appointed hour. Splendid forethought on the ‘chef’s’ part. Warm, rich and ebullient was his startled blood now awash in lost promise. I relished his carnal screams, once if allowed them, for some time as I considered the arrogance of his unctuous profession. A pedestrian, yet very passable start.

the 2nd entrée: What manner dish is this?! The feline form, supple, gracile, and velvety found before my approving lips. And how the meal entertains my sight and yearning before the feast, a notoriously worthy entertainment! But most importantly, nearby I find a bag of sweet effervescent marinade! OH!! How my dish writhes in pleasure as I let is cover and coat her limbs luxuriously, and thus set with abandon to her sumptuous décolletage. The moans are as heavens choir which intone lovingly to my pleasure. But how, oh how, I was taken by this delightfully contumacious aperitif. No doubt a specialty of the race!

But as I finished this magnificent feast, recovering my dignity and licking my talons clean, I find a point of order. I was a trifle disappointed that the dish was not prepared as such by the chef in advance. The note gave some idea of its potency, but no indication whatsoever of what measure to use, or its use with the meal at all. Was this the meaning of the artist in this? That the diner should see to season the dish of their own accord? How, very common. Perhaps some ketchup as well?! Well, in all fairnees I must consider it was not intended, and offer no extra credit. Additionally, and perhaps blithely I think I shall need an expectorate. I see that none was provided.

the 3rd meal: ??


Of Miss Sandre’s suit -

the 1st entrée: A once vibrant and lovely young man of even and dusky hue I found in prostration on my stoop. So exquisitely prepared and presented with poetry was this enchanting dish, and covered in no less from head to toe with the presenter’s inspired and appetizing script and sigils. I methodically licked the shaven body clean of its decoration, and found myself intrigued by its heady subtext. Such the virile package did the once ebullient youth posses, that is was afire with anticipation of lost passions, and it was there I first sought my fill. But alas he was quite cold & congealed by the time I partook. Flat, without flavor, and putrefied to my tastes. Such the pity. GREAT care must be taken in preservation of the vita cruor, or the worth of the meal is quickly lost to father time. In the end a wretched neophyte’s error, and unacceptable to my palate.

the 2nd entrée: The next eve, I found a lovely wisp of a girl-child’s corpse at my feet. Again the presentation was divine, and I could not help but to be inspired by the chef’s mode and seamless poetry. Yet I was now annoyed with what I felt would be the mistake of the first night. And it was to be obtusely repeated! It seemed yet another noble but utter failure on the chef’s part…but lo! Salvation!! The technique of preservation! Could it be true? The body was yet fresh and warm! Could long death taste SOOOOOO very SWEET! Gentle readers, I find myself aching still at this miracle, with the memory of this bewitching repast. I never knew such talent existed. Bravo & Encore!

I must learn this recipe from the chef!!

the 3rd meal: ??



Miss Thessa is a dilgent artist. But, I suspect great things from Miss Sandre, and I often think I hear her now crying with 'laughter' down the hall in anticipation of her last dish. A final grade has yet to be given, and who can say what the decision shall show, but I cannot say that I do not have my curiosities!


With Relish,
-Dr. Octavia