Mr. Flay

 Mr. Flay by: Kevin Myers  AKA Macabrehour 

 Once up a time, on a fine summer day. In the small cozy town of Kittanning P.A. A child named bobby awoke from a slumber. As creaking erupted from his bed made of lumber. For Bobby was a large boy who only cared for food. Any time he could not eat he was always in a mood. His parents had forgotten the lessons of their day. The stories that they were told, of dear old Mr. Flay 

 Bobby’s chubby fingers weakly rubbed at his eyes. As his nose sprang to life with a wondrous surprise. The very air seemed filled with the scent of many sweets. A smile crossed his face as he imagined the tasty treats.
 He bounded out the door and stumbled down the stairs. Skipping every other step, leaping them in pairs.   When he rounded the corner he quickly slowed his pace. In the kitchen stood a man, with a smile upon his face.
 Your parents had some work to do and called me on the phone. They simply asked that I stop by so that you are not alone. I have made a meal for you so please, come over here. He patted a nearby chair and smiled ear to ear.
 A more intelligent child would have simply run away. But at the sight of all the food, bobby felt forced to stay. He sat down at the table and nodded to the man. The smell of the food was more then he could stand. There was jellied candies, sweet cakes and meats. Bobby wasted no time quickly stuffing his cheeks. 

 He moaned as he swallowed each and every bite. Smiling back at the old man in absolute delight. As the plate drew near empty he was given a large cup. Without a moments hesitation, he quickly drank it up. He sat back in his chair while smacking his lips. Nothing went untouched, not a crumb, not a sip. 

 It was then bobby noticed, juice upon the floor. It ran through the kitchen, to a nearby closet door. He rose to his feet and slowly followed the trail. He thought of all the treats ,the closet could entail.
 As he walked his head seemed to be filled with a haze. Stopping for a moment he felt suddenly dazed. Turning back to the table towards the glass he had downed. He started to whimper as his face turned to a frown. Blood had covered the table where he sat, just moments ago. It covered his hands as he rocked to and fro. 

 He cried out and looked at the old man with fear. But the sight of the man only brought forth more tears. His smile still present and his bright gleaming eyes. He showed not a care at poor bobby’s cries.
 Reaching for the closest door and turning the knob with a click.  His stomach twisted with pain and he suddenly felt sick. As the door groaned open his heart was sent into a race. For there on the floor were the remains of his fathers face. He choked on the vomit and slowly fell to his knees. All the while Mr. Flay smiled, ignoring his pleas.
 It was then that he noticed a piece of his mothers hair. His mind brought up thoughts he could not seem to bare. The jellies were the eyes that watched him grow fat. The ham was the asses on which that they sat. The juice was the blood that ran through their veins. The sausage a mixture of organs and brains.
 He wanted to die as he realized what he’d done. For  it’s not very often parents are fed to their son. As his eyes grew more weak and things faded to black. Mr. Flay waved goodbye and drew a knife from his back.
 I hope this story is a reminder of what waits for us all. Should we become a lazy and gluttonous thrall. Remind your children to eat healthy and play. Or you’ll get a visit from dear old Mr. Flay.