Crack Attack: A Collection of One-Shots and Other Disturbing Shit

The Worst Pies in London (PieStar314)

Warning: This one-shot is not intended for anyone who is easily disturbed, anyone who tries to avoid sexually explicit stories, or anyone who is trying to eat. Although the viewpoint may seem to shift at times, it only does so within the narrator's mind. Based on the song "The Worst Pies in London" from the Sweeney Todd Broadway production (see above).

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Vik:

Slick, glistening, tender, juicy, sweet. I fold the lid of the small cardboard box from the pie shop shut and slide it on top of the other two on the front porch of the Sidemen house, then I tuck the note into the corner of the top one. I can still feel the heat of the freshly baked pot pie on my face as I walk back toward the front door, checking around me to make sure I hadn't left anything behind. They'll be paying soon, and they have no idea. I've waited so long to put this plan into action. I jog away from the front of the house and slip in through the unlocked back door, hurrying silently up the stairs before creeping into the spare bedroom at the end of the hall. They've probably forgotten about my vendetta by now. We'll see if revenge is best served frozen.

I check the camera feeds on the spare computer, making sure that everything is working and everything is in place before I reach over and ring the doorbell button on the alarm system speaker. I start recording. I turn the microphones off, preferring to watch their reactions than hear them. I've gone through the act so many times in my head that I know their dialogue by heart. Nobody knows this story better than I do.

There's a pause and a few yells while they wait for me to go get the door for them, as always. When there's no answer, Josh finally gets off his ass to see what it's about. He peers out the peep hole and looks around before opening the door, cautiously bending over to grab the note off of the top of the stack of boxes. I know that note by heart, too:

The worst pies in London for the worst housemates in the world.

Happy two year anniversary of Sidemen House.

-PieStar314

He doesn't look impressed, but that wouldn't be a first time. He stoops over and grabs the stack of boxes, kicking the door shut behind him and yelling up the stairs for the other two to see what woke him up. At the mention of food, JJ darts down the hall and jumps down the flight of stairs, landing centimeters away from the precarious stack of meat pies. Now the show begins.

They head to the kitchen after JJ swipes the top box, his eyes rolling back in his head at the heady scent of the perfectly seasoned meat. If only they knew. After all of this, they'll probably try to actually murder me. Even then, no one will ever top this. Nothing can compare to this feeling. Once you get your first taste, you never go back.

They promptly tuck in, Josh texting Simon to leave his recording go to join them before JJ devours the counter and everything on it. I can feel their pleasure, their surprise from all the way up here as they savour the sweet, tender chunks of meat. Oh, how difficult that meat was to get. It took months to plan the path inside the house to get it and oh, how he screamed! He screamed and no one heard him! Yet again, who ever listened to Vik to begin with? He swore they'd pay someday after he left, after he was long gone. They'll regret brushing him off like that. Ignoring him. Belittling him. It's too late to apologise now, isn't it? Too late to stop the Vik abuse.

He tried to fight but he didn't have much of a chance. The other three might've gotten away, but not Vik. He gave up about halfway through the tenderising process when the sobbing started and the skin started weakening. Drop by drop, tear by tear until he was nothing but a shaking, shuddering mess on the warehouse floor with his arms bound behind his back. Perhaps he thought it would end faster if he didn't fight back; he was very, very sorely mistaken. Lines turned into cuts, cuts turned into slices, slices turned into chops, and chops turned into cutlets. Before long, there was very little left of him, and he was certainly sticky.