Masters of Horror by Lee Pletzers Read Free Book Online Page A

sumpin-or-otha an dis liquid protein shit, but dey ain’t helpin. Ain’t helpin me one bit.
     
    Guy’s gotta eat.
     
    Useta be so good when my brotha Sal an his wife Marie was takin care a me. I was happy den. Dat’s cause dey unnerstood. Dey knew I hadda eat. Boy could dey cook. No limit, man. Anyting I wanted, it was dere on da bed tray soon as I said.
     
    Dey unnerstood me, know’m sayin?
     
    Breakfast was da best. On regula days Marie’d whip me up a coupla dozen eggs over easy wit a coupla poundsa bacon an lotsa dose spicy Jimmy Dean sausage patties. Love dat Jimmy Dean sausage. Den she’d make me a gigantic stack a ten-inch pancakes swimmin in butta an Vermont maple syrup. An on special days, like Satadays an Sundays, she’d go all out an add in a whole platterful a eggs Benedict. Love eggs Benedict. All dat Hollandaise sauce over dose poached eggs on English muffins an Canadian bacon. Heaven, man. Absolute heaven.
     
    Mid-mornings dere’d be Entenmann’s sugar crumb cake or cheeze babka or my favorite, All Butter French Crumb cake. Or sometimes lox an bagels wit cream cheese an herring in cream sauce.
     
    Neva could tell what lunch was gonna be. Sometimes a coupla family-size buckets of da Colonel’s Extra Crispy fried chicken, but most times Sal’d bring me in tree or four sausage an pepperoni pizzas or half a dozen subs from Vinnie’s. Da subs were da best, man. Pepper an egg, veal parmesian, Italian delight, an da Kitchen Sink sub wit evyting on it.
     
    Loved lunch, man.
     
    Mid afternoons I’d do it kinda light. Jus some coffee an a coupla packages a Oreos. Or maybe some Little Debbie Satellite bars. When it was hot, Sal’d get me a gallon a Welsh Farms peanut butter swirl ice cream. He’d mix it up wit a can of Hershey’s chocolate syrup an I’d be in heaven, man.
     
    Dinner’d start aroun five cause I couldn’t wait no longer. Marie’d cut me up a nice cold antipast while Sal’d broil up a coupla dozen garlic clams oreganata. Den da pasta—a coupla poundsa Marie’s super linguine wit white clam sauce, da noodles swimmin in butter an garlic, an da diced clams piled all over da top. Next da fish, usually a coupla tree-or four-pound lobsters or half a dozen pounds a shrimp done up scampi style. After dat, a meat, maybe steak or veal or a nice Krakus ham. For dessert, maybe anotha gallon a da peanut butter swirl or a nice cherry cheesecake, or a coupla peach pies ala mode wit some canoli onna side.
     
    My bedtime snack was always candy. Sal’d let me have all da Snickers bars I wanted. He’d buy dem by da case an leave a whole box right by my bed so’s I could grab one anytime I got hungry. An let me tell you, I got hungry a lot durin da night. But I neva woke Sal or Marie. I knew dey needed deir sleep. I was a good guy. I hung on an starved till breakfast.
     
    Sal an Marie knew how to take care of me. Dey knew what I needed. Dat I hadda eat. Dey understood about eatin, know’m sayin?
     
    Evyting was great till dat day when dey was both out at once. Dey hardly ever left me alone. I mean sure dey went out togetha once inna while, but neva for long. Dis time dey was gone a long time. A coupla hours, maybe, an I was starvin. Not jus hungry, man. I mean starvin !
     
    An I couldn’t get outta bed.
     
    Wasn’t always dis big. I mean, like I was always big accordin to Ma. Born big an jus kept gettin bigger, she always said. But now I’m huge , man. Take up a whole damn king size bed. Can’t get outta bed on my own. Always needed help from Sal or Marie. Good ting Marie’s real strong—good Sicilian stock—or she’da been no help. But all I needed was for one of dem ta give me a little boost an someone to lean on while I shuffled to da batroom. Dey took off da doorframe but still I can barely turn aroun in dere. Lucky I only go twice a day. An it don’t matter if I’m doin number one or number two, man, I gotta sit. First of all, I can’t stand dat long. An second, well, I