It was a calm, carefree spring morning, the kind that made the world feel slow and serene. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a soft golden light over the scenic city park, where the harmonious chirping of birds echoed through the trees. A gentle breeze carried the fresh scent of blooming flowers, swirling around the park's inhabitants who were out enjoying the crisp, rejuvenating spring air.
Near a cluster of benches, a group of elderly women gathered together, their laughter and gossip filling the space between them as they reminisced about old times and shared the latest news. Their wrinkled faces beamed with the joy of companionship. A short distance away, a few young mothers were huddled near the playground, their daughters laughing and running around the colorful slides and swings, their carefree giggles blending with the melody of the park. In the open field, a woman in a sleek tracksuit played fetch with her energetic dog, throwing a tennis ball high into the air and watching as the dog eagerly dashed after it, its tongue flopping in excitement.
Elsewhere, the park’s winding trails bustled with activity. Women of all ages strolled or jogged, each lost in her own world. Some moved slowly, savoring the sights and sounds of the peaceful morning, while others zoomed by with purpose, their shoes tapping rhythmically against the pavement. Among them was Maxine, a young brunette in her early twenties, clad in a fitted sports bra and snug running shorts that accentuated her toned, athletic figure. Her long, dark ponytail swayed behind her as she pushed herself through her morning run.
Her worn running shoes pounded against the trail, the soles barely gripping the asphalt after countless miles of wear and tear. She powered forward, beads of sweat glistening on her bronzed skin, her breath labored as she approached the final stretch of her routine. The spring sun, though not yet oppressive, beat down on her from above, the heat beginning to creep into her muscles. Maxine’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, and while she usually welcomed the warm weather after the gray chill of winter, she wasn’t eager for the inevitable summer heat that would make these morning jogs feel like a grueling test of endurance.
As the park's exit loomed ahead, Maxine began to slow her pace, her stride lengthening into a brisk walk. The sight of her nearby condo building offered relief, and the thought of cool air conditioning spurred her on. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, enjoying the shade cast by the nearby high-rises. Along the bustling boulevard, cars and bikes zipped by, the city alive with activity. Other women strolled beside her on the sidewalk, headed toward coffee shops, boutiques, or workplaces, all moving to the rhythm of the city’s vibrant energy.
Maxine passed by a series of decorative storefronts, the kinds that always caught her eye but rarely her time. A charming florist shop displayed a riot of colorful blooms, their sweet fragrance wafting through the air. Next door, a cozy bakery showcased fresh pastries through its windows, the smell of warm bread almost too tempting to resist. Farther down, an upscale boutique had its latest collection of designer dresses on display, the elegant fabrics glinting in the sunlight. The whole area was alive with a sense of prosperity and activity.
As she walked by a familiar boba tea shop, a group of women sat outside sipping their drinks, each straw dipped into a cup brimming with colorful tapioca pearls. The sight of the icy beverages made Maxine’s mouth dry with thirst, but she shook her head. Not today. She needed to get home, and the allure of her condo's cool air was stronger than any temporary pleasure.
Maxine passed by a series of decorative storefronts, the kinds that always caught her eye but rarely her time. Her eyes briefly lingered on the brightly colored flowers that adorned the exterior of a quaint florist shop. The fragrant blooms added a touch of nature to the urban landscape, a vibrant contrast to the city’s concrete and glass. Next door, the windows of a cozy bakery displayed rows of fresh pastries and sweets, the tantalizing smell of baked goods wafting out into the street. Maxine’s stomach growled, but she pressed on. Farther down, an upscale boutique had its latest collection of designer dresses on display, the elegant fabrics glinting in the sunlight. The whole area was alive with a sense of prosperity and activity.
As she walked by a familiar boba tea shop, a group of women sat outside sipping their drinks, each straw dipped into a cup brimming with colorful tapioca pearls. The sight of the icy beverages made Maxine’s mouth dry with thirst, but she shook her head. Not today. She needed to get home, and the allure of her condo's cool air was stronger than any temporary pleasure.
After a few more blocks, she arrived at the entrance to her condo, where an older woman was walking her dog near the steps. The small, fluffy dog spotted Maxine and eagerly trotted over, its tail wagging excitedly. The older woman, apologetic, tugged on the leash, but Maxine smiled warmly and knelt down to pet the eager pup, scratching behind its ears as it panted happily. Despite her rough, no-nonsense exterior, Maxine had a soft spot for animals and couldn't resist the dog’s cheerful energy.
After giving the pup one last pat, Maxine stood up, brushing off the fur clinging to her damp palms, and entered the cool lobby of her building. The sudden blast of air conditioning was like a blessing, and she paused for a moment, savoring the chill before being greeted by the building's attendant.
“Maxine, right?” the doorwoman asked, glancing up from her phone with a lazy expression.
Maxine wiped the sweat from her forehead and approached the desk. “Yeah?” she replied, wondering what this was about. Usually, the doorwoman only addressed her by name if there was a delivery waiting.
“You’ve got a package.” the doorwoman said, swiveling in her chair to grab a small box from the pile behind her. She scanned the labels before holding it out for Maxine.
“Wow, that was quick.” Maxine remarked, her surprise evident as she took the box. She had ordered something earlier that morning, just before her jog, but hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon. Express shipping was clearly living up to its name today.
With the package tucked under her arm, Maxine headed to the elevator. As the doors slid shut, and the elevator ascended, she caught her reflection in the mirrored walls. Her skin was flushed from the workout, her muscles visibly defined beneath the sheen of sweat. She flexed her arms briefly, admiring the progress she’d made over the months. Still, she had a long way to go before she’d reach her ultimate goal.
A soft *ding* signaled her arrival on her floor, and Maxine quickly exited, walking down the quiet hallway towards her unit. The empty corridor meant she was spared any awkward smalltalk with neighbors, which suited her just fine. She unlocked the door to her condo, a peaceful oasis of sleek furniture and modern design, and slipped inside.
The cool air inside was like heaven, washing away the lingering heat from her intense jog. She walked straight into the kitchen, dropping the package onto the marble countertop. Her kitchen was pristine, its sleek granite floors gleaming under the soft lighting, and the stainless steel appliances reflected her image as she moved. The only mess was a couple of plates in the sink from last night’s dinner, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle later.
Maxine filled a glass with icy water from the sleek, brushed-steel faucet, holding it under the stream until it brimmed. She tipped the glass to her lips and gulped it down, the cool liquid rushing down her throat and soothing her parched mouth. Without a pause, she refilled the glass and drained it just as quickly, then repeated the action a third time. As the final sip passed her lips, she let out a long, satisfied sigh, leaning back against the counter. The tension in her body began to melt away. Now, she could finally relax.
But a flicker of mischief gleamed in her dark brown eyes as she turned toward the small package she had brought in. Feeling a rush of renewed energy, she stepped forward with purpose, her fingers twitching in anticipation. The plain parcel sat on the countertop, unassuming and quiet, but she knew what lay inside. With a smirk, she tore it open, the sound of ripping paper filling the air as she discarded the packaging onto the counter.
Her hand dipped inside the parcel, retrieving a clear, cylindrical container. She held it up to the light, inspecting the contents with a predatory glint in her eyes. Twelve tiny men huddled inside, their naked bodies trembling as they stared up at her through the transparent walls of their prison. Maxine grinned. To her delight, all of them were still alive, trembling and bewildered after surviving the journey in their tight confinement. The tiny men clung to one another, fear written across their minuscule faces, but they had no idea what was in store for them.
In recent weeks, Maxine had made a habit of incorporating more men into her diet. They were rich in protein, affordable, and easy to order in bulk, thanks to express delivery services that catered to her every whim. She never bothered keeping track of how many she went through, not that it mattered. There were always plenty more where they came from, and women like her were never short of supply.
With her other hand, she pulled out a second container from the parcel, this one containing another dozen tiny men. She inspected it carefully, confirming they too were alive and unharmed from the transport. Her gaze swept over the frightened, helpless figures, and a wicked thought crossed her mind. She was starving after her run, and though she usually showered before preparing breakfast, the hunger gnawing at her stomach was too much to ignore. She licked her lips in anticipation and set one of the containers aside for later, keeping the other close by, near the stove, her decision made.
The men inside the container cowered, watching her every move with growing terror. They had no idea what kind of fate awaited them, but they could sense the impending doom. Maxine moved about her kitchen with cold efficiency, gathering everything she needed for her breakfast. She pulled two frying pans from a cabinet, followed by a spatula, a small mixing bowl, an egg whisk, and her trusty vegetable chopper. Everything was laid out in perfect order, each tool chosen with precision.
She opened the fridge, retrieving an egg carton, and set it beside the bowl. Before getting started, Maxine pressed a button on the sleek control panel near the stove, and music began playing through the kitchen’s built-in speakers. An upbeat rhythm filled the room, and she hummed along as she cracked three eggs into the mixing bowl. Thick, yellow yolks plopped into the bowl, one after the other, but the tiny men inside the container remained eerily calm, not yet realizing they were part of the recipe.
Maxine's hand hovered over their container before she twisted open the lid with a firm click. She reached in, her massive fingers plunging into their world. The dozen men inside scattered in terror, but it was futile. Maxine’s fingers curled around three of them, lifting them effortlessly from the group. They struggled helplessly, their naked bodies pressed together in her tight grip. Their screams were barely audible to her, mere squeaks, but she wasn’t interested in mercy.
The chopper, an ordinary kitchen gadget, was designed to dice vegetables with one quick push of the lid. But over time, Maxine had discovered it worked just as well for chopping up men. With a practiced ease, she dropped the three men onto the metal grate of the chopper. They landed with small cries of pain, blood instantly oozing from the deep cuts caused by the sharp blades below. Maxine barely gave them a second glance as she placed the lid on top.
With one firm push, the lid slammed down, and the men were diced into unrecognizable chunks, their limbs and torsos shredded into pieces. Blood and tissue collected in the compartment below, and Maxine removed it with a detached glance. She dumped the remains into the mixing bowl, watching as the fragments of their bodies tumbled into the yellow yolks. Their blood mingled with the eggs, creating a swirl of red and yellow.
Satisfied with her work, Maxine reached for the salt and pepper shakers. She added a few pinches of salt, then grabbed her pepper mill, an idea already forming in her mind. She eyed the men still trapped in the container, their tiny faces twisted in horror, and plucked one unlucky soul from the group. His desperate struggles were no match for her strength, and she dropped him into the pepper mill without a second thought.
As she twisted the mill’s handle, the man inside was pulverized. His bones crunched under the pressure, his flesh ground into a fine red powder. Maxine hummed along with the music, turning the handle until nothing remained of him but dust. The crushed remains filtered down into the bowl below, a fine powdery mix of pulverized flesh and bone. She picked up the egg whisk and stirred it all together, watching as the chunks of meat blended seamlessly with the eggs. The thick yolk absorbed everything, blending it into a gruesome yet satisfying mixture. With the yolks, meat, and seasonings combined, her breakfast was nearly complete.
Maxine moved to the stove with a practiced grace, turning on two burners with a flick of her wrist. A thick pat of butter hit one pan, melting slowly and bubbling as it spread across the hot surface. In the other pan, she splashed in some oil, which immediately began to shimmer under the heat. The rich scent of sizzling butter filled the air, mixing with the slight sharpness of the oil as the pans heated. She stared at the bowl of egg mixture on the counter, her eyes gleaming with hunger. Soon, it would all come together—the perfect post-workout meal.
While the pans warmed, she pulled her phone from her back pocket, navigating quickly to her favorite shopping app. The pepper mill incident from earlier still annoyed her; its stubborn mechanism frustrated her every time. She needed something better—something more modern, preferably designed with men in mind. After a quick search, she found a sleek, stainless steel spice grinder with hundreds of five-star reviews. It claimed to crush spices into a fine, even powder.
Skimming through the customer reviews, her eyes landed on a familiar question:
Q: Does this work well to grind men?
A: Absolutely! I've been using this for months and haven't had any issues. Turns them into a nice fine powder!
The answer had thirty-four 'helpful' votes, more than enough to convince her. With a few quick taps, she placed an order for express delivery, already excited about her future meals. Setting her phone down, she returned her focus to the stove. The two pans were now at the perfect temperature, the butter foaming lightly and the oil shimmering.
Maxine picked up the mixing bowl and poured the egg mixture into the buttered pan. The thick, yellow liquid spread evenly, bubbling slightly as the butter sizzled and coated the eggs. While the eggs started cooking, she grabbed two more men from the container. Their tiny bodies wriggled helplessly between her fingers, but she barely gave them a second glance as she tossed them into the other pan, the one filled with hot oil.
The splash as their bodies hit the scalding liquid was accompanied by sharp, panicked screams. The oil immediately burned their skin, searing them alive in a pool of grease. They thrashed in agony, flailing wildly, but there was no escape. The sizzling oil only grew louder as their struggles intensified, the heat blistering their fragile forms. Maxine, unmoved, picked up the rubber spatula and pressed it down on them, trapping them beneath it. One man was pinned face-first into the boiling oil, his muffled screams quickly drowned out by the grease. The other fared slightly better, pinned on his back, but his suffering was no less severe. Maxine didn’t flinch. She held them there, making sure the heat finished them off. Their struggles grew weaker, their limbs slowing as their bodies succumbed to the torture.
Satisfied they were no longer alive, Maxine released the spatula. Their limp bodies floated in the grease, still sizzling but motionless. She flipped them over with ease, ensuring their remains would cook evenly, their now-charred skin glistening in the oily heat. Turning her attention back to the eggs, she used the spatula to stir the mixture, making sure the diced pieces of men were evenly distributed. She alternated between both pans, occasionally checking on the fried men to make sure they were browning nicely.
With a lull in the cooking process, she decided to make toast. She grabbed two slices of bread, sliding them into the toaster, and then retrieved a jar of strawberry jelly from the fridge. Maxine didn’t care much for plain toast; it needed something extra. She also pulled out a spoon and butter knife, laying them neatly beside the jar. With the bread toasting, she returned her focus to the stove, flipping the eggs and checking on the crispy men floating in oil. Everything was coming together perfectly.
Once the eggs and fried men were perfectly cooked, she turned off the burners. Using the spatula, she scooped the eggs onto a ceramic plate, the rich, golden yolks dotted with bits of diced flesh. The fried men followed, their charred bodies dripping with oil as she laid them beside the eggs. The final touch was the toast, which popped from the toaster just as she finished plating.
When the toast popped up, Maxine twisted open the jar of jelly, her meal nearly complete. But first, she had another little treat in mind. Plucking two more men from the container, she unceremoniously dropped one onto each slice of toast. The warm, stiff surface caused them to stumble, their bare feet struggling to find balance on the bread. Before they could fully recover, Maxine scooped a spoonful of strawberry jelly from the jar and dumped it onto each man.
The thick, red gelatin coated the men instantly, engulfing their small bodies and smothering their panicked cries. They flailed beneath the heavy, sticky substance, but their struggles were futile. Maxine, utterly indifferent to their suffering, began spreading the jelly across the toast with the butter knife. The men’s limbs twisted and snapped as they were rolled beneath the knife, their fragile bodies caught in the sticky onslaught. She spread the jelly evenly, ensuring the toast was well-covered, the occasional crack of bones muffled by the thick layer of fruit preserve.
With her meal finally complete, Maxine took a moment to step back and admire her work. The plate was a masterpiece, perfectly balanced between golden scrambled eggs, crispy toast slathered with jelly, and the charred remains of two men who’d met their fate in the frying pan. The eggs were speckled with diced bits of their comrades, cooked just the way she liked, while the toast held its own grotesque garnish—two live men, barely visible beneath the thick layer of strawberry jelly. Each component of the meal was meticulously prepared and ready for consumption. All she needed now was the perfect drink to complement her feast.
She turned toward the other side of her kitchen, heading for the blender that sat waiting on the countertop. She moved with fluid grace to the fridge, where she gathered a frozen banana, a bowl of fresh strawberries, a carton of yogurt, and a gallon of milk. Lastly, her fingers curled around the open container of men, only four pitiful souls remained inside, trembling as they realized their fate was sealed.
Humming along to the upbeat music playing in the background, Maxine began by chopping the banana into neat slices with a swift flick of her knife. The four men watched helplessly, knowing that they were next in line for her cruelty. After tossing the banana slices and a handful of strawberries into the blender, she picked up the container of men. Tilting it slightly, she watched with mild amusement as they scrambled in vain to avoid the inevitable, their tiny bodies slipping down the container’s slick walls, tumbling headfirst into the blender.
They landed with soft thuds on the pieces of fruit, narrowly avoiding the razor-sharp blades below. Disoriented and terrified, they barely had a chance to take in their surroundings before Maxine upended the yogurt carton over them. A thick, creamy wave cascaded down, smothering their tiny bodies. They coughed and sputtered, trying to wipe the sticky substance from their faces, but there was no reprieve. Maxine poured milk next, drowning them in an ocean of white liquid. They thrashed wildly, struggling to stay afloat. One man managed to scramble onto a strawberry, clinging to it like a life raft, while the others flailed hopelessly, gasping for air.
Maxine, entirely indifferent to their suffering, placed the blender lid on top and sealed their fates. The four men, though panicked, were blissfully unaware of what was coming next. Their terror-filled cries were cut short when she pressed the button. Instantly, the blades roared to life, spinning with lethal speed. The men were caught in the whirlwind, their tiny bodies shredded apart as the blades sliced through them effortlessly. Their limbs were torn off, blood spraying into the mixture, where it dissolved into the yogurt and milk, becoming part of the creamy blend. Within seconds, their forms were obliterated, reduced to nothing more than tiny fragments floating within the smoothie.
Maxine paused to check the consistency of the blend, noticing a few chunks of fruit still intact. She pressed the button again, this time holding it down longer, ensuring everything was perfectly smooth. After another thirty seconds, she stopped the blender and inspected the result—thick, creamy, and utterly devoid of any trace of the four men who had just met their gruesome end.
Satisfied, she poured the smoothie into a tall glass and carried it to the dining table, where her plate was already waiting. Sitting down, she wasted no time digging in. Maxine devoured the scrambled eggs with eager bites, the flavor of the diced men barely noticeable among the buttery eggs. The crispy fried men on the side were more distinct, their charred flesh adding a savory crunch to each mouthful. Between bites, she sipped her smoothie, savoring the fruity blend of strawberries, bananas, and the faint, almost metallic taste of the pulverized men.
The two surviving men embedded in the toast squirmed futilely beneath the thick jelly. Their tiny cries were muffled as Maxine lifted the toast to her mouth. She barely acknowledged their presence, her teeth sinking into the bread and jelly, crushing the men along with it. Their struggles grew weaker with each chew until they, too, were swallowed and sent down to join the others in her stomach.
Feeling fully replenished after such a hearty meal, Maxine leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. She wiped her lips with a napkin, her stomach pleasantly full, and smiled to herself. The breakfast had been perfect, every bite just as delicious as she’d imagined. But as her eyes drifted back to the kitchen, her smile faded. The countertops were littered with bowls, utensils, and remnants of her brutal cooking process. The mess was undeniable, and now it all needed to be cleaned.
After finishing every last bite, Maxine leaned back in her chair, letting out a contented sigh. Her body felt replenished, her energy restored after such a satisfying breakfast. She wiped her lips with a napkin, her stomach pleasantly full, and smiled to herself. The breakfast had been perfect, every bite just as delicious as she’d imagined. But as her eyes drifted back to the kitchen, her smile faded. The countertops were littered with bowls, utensils, and remnants of her brutal cooking spree. The mess was undeniable, and now it all needed to be cleaned. With a resigned sigh, Maxine rose from the table and headed back to the kitchen.
“Well,” she muttered to herself, “better get started.”