Cannibal Curt

It was just a matter of time before someone dared to ask the following: How long do we have to wait until it’s socially acceptable to eat a fellow human?

Canned goods will only take you so far, and after a certain amount of beans the guy who used to be your best friend can’t help but to start looking like your best source of nutrition.

It was Curt who asked, which surprised everyone in the room. Curt had always been the solid, stable member of the group.  Whenever his buddies Scott, Patrick or Sean did something stupid – like use Scott’s roof in place of his pool’s actual diving board, Curt was there ready to call the paramedics.  Curt was the first to land a job that didn’t require him to wear a name tag or a shiny, ill-fitting polyester uniform.  And it was Curt who had the good sense to marry someone who was beautiful on the inside; unlike those pretty – but bitchy idiots with whom the other guys hooked up.

“What the hell, Curt?” asked a freaked out Scott.

“It’s not that I want to eat any of you guys.  It’s just that everyone knows this isn’t going to end anytime soon, and we’re already low on supplies.  How much longer can any of us realistically hang on?”

“Relax, Curt,” chimed in Patrick.  “I once read that humans can go a week without food or water so I’m pretty sure we’re good.”

“So, after a week then?  If any of you are dead I can, like, gnaw on your foot or something?”

“No!” Curt’s three friends shouted in unison.

“I’d share if someone else was still alive.  I’m not greedy!” Curt offered as an olive branch, something he would totally eat as well at this point if one were handy.

“Jesus, Curt.  I’m so sorry that I didn’t buy enough snacks for tonight’s hockey game,” Sean said defensively.  “I figured that the plate of nachos and the two dozen wings would be enough, but apparently I was mistaken.  Kill me, why don’t you?”

Curt decided that he would just wait for Sean to die on his own and then dig into his legs.  He also considered his offer to share with the others now rescinded.

Each year the four of them took turns hosting hockey playoff season, and it was a well known rule that it was the host’s job to keep the gang well fed and hydrated while they watched the games.  Curt was the only one who kept his end of the bargain.  Last year’s deep fried cheeseburgers alone likely caused the annihilation of an entire herd of cows.  Hockey playoffs last for months but here they were, already out of food on game one of round one, all because of Sean’s lack of planning.  The only thing worse than a fan going home deflated because his team just lost is a fan going home hungry.  Check that – the only thing worse would be a fan not going home because someone else had to eat him in order to ward off starvation.

Let this be a lesson to you kids: always hold up your end of the bargain.

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