Saturday, June 25, 2016

Super Meals: Part Twenty-Two

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It was nearly 8am by the time Jane finished her autopsy.
Mimi had been in the lab the entire time, which violated protocol but, given the circumstances, both she and Jane had decided that they were already in uncharted territory, and Jane needed the support more than they needed to stay within the direct letter of the law.
The autopsy was hindered at first by the fact that Bethany’s skin was nigh impervious. Jane broke several scalpels and had to resort to the bone saw to get through the sternum and make the initial incisions. Mimi was amazed at her resolve and her ability to get the word done, and she noticed a set in her jaw, a stern look in her face, and she wondered if Jane wasn’t putting her mind somewhere else and focusing on the task at hand. Whenever Jane spoke into the microphone hanging over the exam table her voice was monotone, robotic, stating nothing but facts and figures about the composition of the body and the findings within.
When it was all done she went over to the tape recorder on the table to the side of the room and switched it off, then collapsed to the ground with heavy, wracking sobs. Mimi dashed across the room and fell down next to her, wrapping her up in a tight hug and just rocking her. There were no words to share between the two women—what would they say?
An hour passed. Shortly after 9am the door to the morgue slammed open and another woman entered.
It was the District Attorney, and she was furious.
“Just what the holy fuck do you think you’re doing?” she said, storming across the room. Mimi had stood up immediately when the doors blew open, but Jane was taking a little longer to compose herself. “Who authorized you to perform this autopsy?”
Mimi stepped between the two women, saying, “Counselor, I’m not entirely sure you’re fully aware—”
“Do not speak to me, detective. You’re lucky I haven’t called your captain already and had you reassigned to checking parking meters for pulling this bullshit.”
Mimi backed down, but only a half-step. Given Jane’s state, she wasn’t sure if she needed to be prepared to step in on behalf of Jane or Tiffany, the D.A.
“Doctor Barton,” continued D.A. Tiffany, “I demand an explanation. Why are you working on a case that is such a monumental conflict of interest?”
Jane was staring at the floor now, her hair disheveled and her makeup running, but she said nothing. Mimi stepped in again.
“Counselor, as lead detective on this case, I felt it prudent to notify the family of the deceased in the interest of obtaining their assistance in the investigation. I think Doctor Barton’s professional expertise in this matter would be invaluable to learning the details of the deceased and save quite a bit of time in figuring out both what killed her and, subsequently, who.”
Tiffany slowly turned her head towards Mimi, her jaw tweaked to one side like she was grinding her teeth, and when she spoke it was, indeed, through gritted teeth. “Detective Spatchcock,” she said. “If I have to tell you again to keep your opinions to yourself, I will personally see to it that the closest you come to law enforcement for the rest of your life is working loss prevention at a K-Mart. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”
“Tiffany?”
Jane’s voice made both Detective Mimi and D.A. Tiffany jump. They both turned to look and Tiffany withered underneath Jane’s gaze.
“This was my baby sister,” continued Jane. “I will be an active part of this investigation, to be led by Detective Spatchcock. If you try to pull me off this case, I will have my parents say that her home address was at their place, which, you may or may not know, is beyond city limits, which will make this a county matter, and Sheriff Wilkinson owes me a favor.”
Mimi was impressed, but unsurprised. She had always loved Jane’s resolve in family matters, and seeing her charged up gave her hope that Jane was going to get through this.
D.A. Tiffany looked from one woman to the next. Mimi crossed her arms and popped a hip to one side, daring her to say something. Jane was leaning slightly forward, arms at her sides and her hands clenched into fists.
“Fine,” said Tiffany. “I will allow this investigation to continue, but I expect to see significant progress within the next 48 hours or I will be making my appeal directly to the state medical board and I will let them take you both off this case.” She spun on her heel and stomped out of the morgue, slamming more doors on her way.
The two women watched her depart, then Mimi turned to Jane and asked, “So what now?”
Jane said, “Now I go hug my parents and cry a lot more and you get your ass back on the streets and find the fucker who did this to my sister.”
“You want me to come with you to your folks’ place?” asked Mimi.
“No, thank you,” said Jane. “I’ll be okay. But I could use a lift home.”
Mimi nodded and took Jane’s arm. “I’ll check in with you as I work,” she said, “So you know where we are with the investigation.”
“Thanks,” said Jane. “What are you going to do next?”
Mimi thought for a second about the results of the autopsy. Not the hardened skin, not the increased bone density, not even the hardening of the arterial walls or the jellified blood…she was thinking about the stomach contents and the fast-food containers in the trash back at the crime scene.
“I’m going to go talk to a friend of mine,” she said. “Then I’m gonna grab some breakfast.”

Monday, June 6, 2016

Super Meals: Part Twenty-One


When he was finished, he considered it a piece of art.
It was a burger, yes, but there was more to it than that. He had consulted his tablet and looked up a few recipe combinations, cross-referencing them with what he remembered of the rental car driver, and invented a whole new burger.
It would have been a tremendous success, if the fast-food company would ever be allowed to release it.
Except for the side effects, of course.
The bun was a Kaiser-roll, part of the restaurant’s premium menu.
The patty was a third-pound “buffalo” burger. There was no actual beef or buffalo in it, but it did contain enough mammal meat to pass the FDA tests. The additional chemicals that were added back at Doctor Ralph’s laboratory gave it the same consistency, texture, and flavor of buffalo meat.
For toppings, he included mini jalapeno poppers and onion straws – neither of which had ever seen sunlight or dirt or anything else typically required to grow vegetables. The “jalapeno” poppers were cooked whole in an industrial press from a mixture of gelatin, breadcrumbs, and jalapeno flavoring; the onion straws were something Doctor Ralph was particularly proud of. He had cooked down konjac yams and mixed them with paraffin wax as a stiffening agent, then cut them into little triangles and dried them out. When seasoned with onion powder, they were just like sliced onions, which he then tossed and coated with a shredded breadlike product most known for being cooked on stove-tops and being stuffed into turkeys.
He held the entire concoction together with a creamy Havarti cheese (entirely synthetic, of course) that was perfectly melted over the toppings to hold them in place and glue them to the bun.
He wrapped this perfect weapon of a burger in a plain white waxed paper wrapper, which he then placed into a small paper bag. He folded it shut, and then taped the folds closed like he was wrapping a present. When he was all finished, he looked up and saw that SaraBecca was standing just off to the side, watching him, smiling. “So what’d you make?” she asked.
“This is something truly unique,” he said, “but I have to deliver it to our local tester for their taste test.”
She looked disappointed and said, “Oh, I was really hoping that I could try it myself. I always kinda hoped I could get in on one of the test burgers before it went public.”
“Well,” said Doctor Ralph, “I will certainly make a positive note in my report about both the quality of your kitchen and the quality of the taste testers in this area. And when the time comes for us to promote someone to test-kitchen manager, guess who’s name is going to be at the top of the list of candidates?”
SaraBecca literally squealed as she clapped her hands together and bounced with excitement. Doctor Ralph held up a hand to silence her, then said “Now, may I please borrow your car?”
“My…car?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Doctor Ralph. “If one of our competitors spotted me driving my car away from here in the middle of the night like this, I’m sure they’d follow me and try to steal our trade secrets. You understand, of course.”
She didn’t understand, of course, but she went along with it anyway.
Doctor Ralph took her keys and drove two blocks away before pulling over to the side of the road and taking his tablet computer out again. He logged into his work intranet connection and pulled up the most recent contest that the fast food giant had run. He narrowed down the list of entrants to the current town he was in, then narrowed it further by telling it to display male entrants only. He selected the right age group, then chose the entrants who’s household income was in the $20-$30,000 range (because, really, how much money could you make as a rental car delivery boy?), then selected the entrants who were also friends with the fast food company on social media channels.
It took him mere minutes to scan through the faces of the results and find the young man he was looking for. Mister Adam Martin, a scruffy, scrawny man who lived with this fiancé on the far side of town. She was working, meaning Adam would be home alone and Doctor Ralph could make his delivery with no troubles.
Except for the two police officers who had arrived at the apartment five minutes previously.
They’d knocked and announced that they were there to place him into protective custody, and that their supervisor, a Detective Mimi Spatchcock, would be arriving shortly to interview him in connection with an ongoing murder investigation.
Adam simply said “Uh…okay. Are you guys gonna wait outside or come in?”
The lead officer said “We’ll remain outside of the home, sir, in order to ensure that you stay safe.”
“Cool,” said Adam. “Can I play video games while I wait?”
“Um, sure?” replied the cops.
“Cool,” said Adam again, closing the door and heading back to his easy chair and video game controller.
When Doctor Ralph pulled up, the police were already bored waiting for Mimi.
Doctor Ralph got out of the car and both of the police put their hands on their guns, but he held up the paper bag and said “Delivery for a mister…” he checked a sloppy note he’d written on a piece of paper. “…mister Adam Martin. Is this his place?”
The officers looked at each other, then the shorter one said “Since when did you guys deliver?”
“Since, like, a month ago,” said Doctor Ralph. “Where have you guys been? Don’t you check the app?”
The officers looked at Doctor Ralph, then each other, and then the shorter cop reached behind him and knocked on the door. “Mister Martin?” he asked. “There’s a deliver here for you.”
“Delivery?” asked Adam. “Of what?” He opened the door and saw Doctor Ralph, who smiled and held up the paper bag.
Your burger, Mister Martin. You signed up on our website as a beta tester for new meals, remember? Heres the first one. He moved towards the door, but the taller cop stopped him, saying Wait, why are you delivering in the middle of the night?
Doctor Ralph sighed and said “Um, duh? We’re working with some pretty sensitive stuff here…” He saw the look on the cops’ faces and added “Sir. Look, we don’t want our competition to know what we’re coming out with, so we deliver at all hours of the day to avoid getting spied on.” The cops didn’t look like they believed him, so he went on, saying “Come on, man. They called me up in the middle of the night and told me I had to come down to the store and pick up a delivery. I can’t go home until it’s done, so if you’re really all that scared, lemme just leave it on the porch, okay?”
“No,” said the shorter cop. “It’s cool. Deliver it and get outta here.”
“Thank you,” said Doctor Ralph. He moved forward and handed the bag to Adam, who was still waiting in the doorway.
“Just which store did you say you were with, again?”
Doctor Ralph admitted to himself that these cops were at least half-smart, which was not something he was used to in smaller towns like this.
That’s not to say he wasn’t ready to handle it. He held up the paper bag and pointed at the logo on the front of it. “Yeah,” said the shorter cop, “I get that. But which branch? There’s, like, four of those places in this town.”
Doctor Ralph thought to himself Six, actually, but instead said “Over on Issaacs.”
The cop write it down in a notebook he’d taken from his pocket while Adam sniffed at the bag and said “Dude! This smells awesome! Thanks!”
“No problem, sir,” said Doctor Ralph. “Thanks for signing up as a beta taster!”
He got in his car and drove away.
According to his research, once Adam ate the burger he would begin sweating within ten minutes. His skin would become hot to the touch after twelve minutes. At fifteen minutes he would begin singeing his clothes and anything else he touched.
At roughly the twenty-minute mark, he would be immolated as his very skin caught on fire and everything within a two-foot radius melted or was destroyed.
That was what his research told him, based on the other studies and other eaters of approximately the same age, weight, and size as Adam, and he was satisfied. He put the car into gear and continued driving away so he could ditch the car.
Within five minutes, however, he saw a blast in the rearview mirror as Adam Martin exploded with the power of a bundle of TNT, killing himself, the two cops, and the neighbors on either side of his apartment.
It was an impressive explosion, and, in a happy accident, took care of the cops who had seen his face. Satisfied, now, that he was safe, Doctor Ralph parked SaraBecca’s car down an alley between Colville and Spokane streets and left the keys on the front seat before walking back to the hotel and going to bed.