Sitting there, gloating in his methods, his mind drifted away.
He would sneak into each room and quietly watch them sleep, reveling in the sleep-induced smells of slumber. Then just before dawn, he would take a taste. See how the process was coming along. These were untested methods, after all. They had to get the combinations just right in order to ensure peak freshness and flavor.
“What are doing??” his mother shrieked, slapping him alongside the head.
“Sorry, Momma. I was just daydreaming.” He hanged his head in shame. It was worse than being caught having a wet dream.
“There ain’t no time for that. Look! The children are waiting.” She stalked from the room.
Irritated and humiliated, he stood to bark his orders.
“Get to bed now, Swine!” The children scattered from the room, leaving dirty dishes in their wake. He would have to clean everything himself, but that was Momma’s orders. The children were to do no physical labor. It ruined “the meat” after all.