You Can Call Me Isaac
No, Isaac, you know the rules- Well — you’re in luck!
- female cannibal in modern attire
- vast working knowledge of serial killers
- conceal her nudity from strangers
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“You can call me Isaac,” she replied. Then she threw her head back and laughed. A full minute later she said, “You know, like on–”
“No, Isaac, you know the rules. You’re not allowed to explain your own 80s TV references.”
“… because he was the bartender,” Isaac sulked.
“Listen,” I said, “you have no idea the kind of week I’m having. Actually, it’s been a lot longer than that. I can’t even remember the last time I ate a real meal.”
“Well — you’re in luck!” Isaac said, her mood brightening again. “Just back through that door, in the auxiliary kitchen, you can have a feast. The former chef was a female cannibal in modern attire, with a vast working knowledge of serial killers.”
“Lucky me,” I muttered. “Seriously, I need answers more than food right now.” Especially food that might have once had a driver’s license.
“Her attire was *exceptionally* modern,” Isaac plowed on. “It was really just the notion of clothing, as expressed by its lack. But she did wear an apron when she cooked.”
“To protect herself from grease splatters?”
“No, to conceal her nudity from strangers in the kitchen, who were mostly health inspectors. It didn’t work too well, though, not wrapping around the back. But she never got reported. You know. Cannibal.”
“Isaac? No more games. Tell me who you really are, and how you know so much about my family.”
The bartender put her phone away and drew in a deep breath.
bonus points for using them in order