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Review This Story || Author: Eurytion

Cannibal 4H

Chapter 8 The Judging

Cannibal 4H: Chapter Eight: The Judging by Eurytion
	
JUDGING DAY AT THE FAIR. The culmination of months of efforts for the entrants;
the culmination of far more than that for the entries. Never was the old joke
about the chicken only being involved with breakfast while the pig was committed
ever truer. The human cattle that would be appraised today were certainly
committed.
	
Cow 701 presented some special considerations for the judging panel. Normally,
because of the difficulty involved in the raising, veal cattle weren't entered
at the junior cattle raiser class. In fact, almost all the human veal produced
for sale came from giant commercial farms located in the Northwest. It wasn't
profitable to cultivate human veal on family farms.
	
After months of intensive research on the World Wide Web and consultations with
extension agents and other experts, Joey had designed his project as the first
step in lowering the costs of veal production for smaller, local operations such
as Geryon Cattle Farms. Plans for the operation had already been drawn up before
Valerie had lost her identification badge at the fair.
	
While it still cost more to ready cow 701 for slaughter than her true cash
market price would be (prize winners at the fair were always auctioned off for
far more than they would bring on the open market), Joey believed that his new
methods could allow smaller, family-owned cattle farms to make, not lose, money
on veal.
	
His special veal pen had nearly the same per square foot operating cost as a
regular barn. A carefully run cow-calf operation with a breeding herd producing
calves solely for veal combined with the selective purchase of heifers and
mavericks at auction could help make small scale veal farms feasible and
profitable.
	
First though Joey and cow 701 had to get through the judging.
	
The three judges preceded Joey into the transfer box. Closing the door behind
them, Joey explained about the need for the red lighting. When the time came for
them to judge his girl's skin tone he would place the goggles on 701 and replace
the red lighting with white. But, for most of the judging, the carmine
illumination would have to suffice.
	
Complying with her master's hand signals, cow 701 exited her veal cage with the
ease brought on by nearly a year of practice. Her calm outward demeanour as she
was examined revealed no trace of the turmoil she felt inside.
	
The Valerie-mind was silently screaming; as a real human she had attended enough
Cannibal 4-H Fairs to know she was being judged and what came afterward. But
McCain's conditioning held, even as she heard the judges speak of the high
quality of her meat and joke with Joey about the best ways to serve her.
	
In addition to the standard techniques, the panel used a new technology during
the judging: ultrasound examination. Based on the medical device used by
doctors, a specially constructed machine sent high-frequency sound waves into
cow 701 and then recorded the waves as they bounced off the various body
tissues.
	
The mechanism produced a visual outline of the girl's internal body structure on
a small screen, allowing the judges to gage proportions of fat to lean, fat
thickness, and the size and quality of the various cuts of meat on cow 701.
	
"Son," said Art Trubell after they had left the transfer box. "Even though I'm
the foreman of this panel, I'm probably speaking out of turn because as a panel
we haven't made a decision yet. But I have to tell you how impressed I am by
your entry.  We serve a lot of veal at my restaurant and if you didn't have that
arrangement with Crenshaw I'd be top bidder on that girl of yours and serve her
at my next 'by subscription only' meal."
	
Joey had rarely eaten at Brigliadoro. Widely considered to be the best and
fanciest restaurant in town, its prices usually kept him away. Having a
hamburger and fries at the Hitching Post might not be as elegant or as gourmet
but it sure was closer to what he could afford. The last time he had dined at
Brigliadoro was after he had won his second blue ribbon.  Al Crenshaw had taken
Linda Sue and he there to celebrate and the bill had come to several hundreds of
dollars.  Still, praise from Art Trubell had to be taken seriously. A
hard-dealing businessman, no one had ever accused him of giving out compliments
like candy at Halloween.
	
Jeff Myerson, who served as the county extension agent for the county to the
south spoke up next.  "I have to agree with Art. That's a fine heifer you've got
there. The fact that she's a conversion and you've only had her for ten months
makes what you've accomplished even more amazing. I don't have any doubt about
how I'm going to vote."
	
The last judge was Peter Barton, the owner of an agricultural implements
dealership in town. Having grown up as farm kid and still involved in overseeing
the raising of crops for the local food bank, he was more than knowledgable
about agricultural issues.
	
"Joey, I don't think there's any question about how well you've done with this
project. I think you deserve the Blue Ribbon for Best of Show and I'll push for
it. Even though I knew that cow before she was converted, she has me really
looking forward to sitting down at a dining table and enjoying some nice veal
parmigiana. 
	
"In fact, I'm halfway considering contracting with you to do the same thing with
my step-daughter, Patty. Even though she's only ten years old, she's made it
plain that she doesn't approve of her mom remarrying me and she's done
everything she can to bust us up. If you don't mind, I'd like to bring Patty
around to the farm and maybe even to the butchering. Your cow used to baby-sit
for her and I want her to see what might happen if she doesn't start to behave
and treat me with some respect."
	
Joey beamed at the accolades he was receiving. At the same time he tucked Mr.
Barton's request away for further consideration. Families selling their unruly
offspring at auction did happen although the kids usually had to be really
serious troublemakers before such a drastic step was taken. Maybe there was a
way to bypass the auction process and make direct purchases. It was worth
talking with his father about.
	
That evening Joey and Linda Sue went to the Polynesian-style long pig roast.
Joey had spent much of the previous day staving off his anxiety by working on
the volunteer crew that helped to dig the three cooking pits or lovos. Linda Sue
had enjoyed herself by assisting in the preparation of the three young Fijian
girls for their roasting.
	
Each lovo was a uniform 43 inches deep but their length and width varied to fit
the girl who would cooked within their confines. While everyone called it a pig
roast, during cooking the girls were more steamed than roasted. 
	
Four hours before the girls were to be lowered into the furrows, an iron pipe
honeycombed with 1/4" holes was laid on the ground at the pit bottom. A
standpipe reached up from one end to stand about three foot higher than the
earth's rim. The pipe, along with the outflow of a vacuum cleaner, would be used
to get air to the fire allowing it to burn more evenly.
	
Under the chef's direction, the pit was filled with wood; each piece of which
had been carefully cut to be the same size as all the others, another aid to
even heat throughout the lovo. The fire was lit without the use of chemical
starters such as charcoal lighter and allowed to burn down until the bottom of
the excavation was covered with about two feet of red hot coals.
	
After the fire was underway, Linda Sue and the other volunteers began to prepare
the Polynesian long pig.  The young carcasses, each weighing about 120 pounds,
were placed on plastic covered tables. Large bowls of sea salt were set on each
table.
	
As she rubbed her long pig with salt, Linda Sue was enchanted by how beautiful
the Fijian girl was.  Her dark, wavy hair, now encased in a transparent non-heat
conducting hair net,  reached to the small of her back.  Her face was given
symmetry  by a broad flat nose spread over wide pouting lips. Her skin was
already a dusky bronze which would not noticeably darken during cooking. Her
most fascinating feature was the elaborate blue-black tattooing of geometric
motifs which encircled the girl's public area and extended into a wide band
around her hips. The ornate tattoos made it look as though the girl was wearing
a pair of dark, skin-tight, intricately patterned shorts.
	
"Be sure and cover every inch of that skin with the salt," the chef instructed
Linda Sue. "That means inside the body cavities as well as outside."
	
Linda Sue turned her attention from the body on the table to the chef.  If the
girl was beautiful, she thought, this man is more than a match for her. Knowing
that he was being examined, Cakkobau stepped back from the table to give Linda
Sue a more comprehensive look.
	
Linda Sue liked what she saw. The Fijian stood a little over six foot. His hair
was black and cut close to his scalp, its waves reaching straight back on his
head.  His skin colour was a match for the girl on the table while his face was
squarer, less elongated than the girl's. A blue shadow of emerging beard
outlined his upper lip and chin.
	
While the girl's tattoos only covered her waist, the chef's entire torso was
decorated with an intricate network of fine blue tatoos. Because of his role as
chef, Cakkobau was not completely nude. His loins were wrapped in a sulu made of
red cloth with a white depiction of some sort of tropical flower or plant.  His
teeth, revealed as he smiled at her, resembled a line of square pearls.
	
"Come along now. Quit staring at me, you're falling behind the other women," he
admonished the smitten young girl. "If you really want to see what's under my
sulu, come to my bure after we've put these long pigs on the fire. Until then
you've got work to do," he said giving her naked ass a squeeze as he strode
arrogantly toward the next preparation table.
	
With a humph that could be heard throughout the tent, Linda Sue grabbed another
handful of sea salt and rubbed it vigorously inside the girl's body cavity.
Cheeky bastard, she thought, although Joey would be out having a beer with his
friends and she really didn't have that much to do this afternoon. Maybe it
wouldn't hurt to take a stroll down toward the visitor's tents, just for the
sake of maintaining friendly international relations. Who knows she might even
be able to pick up a few pointers to use at the Geryon Farm celebration.
	
After the trench full of logs had been reduced to a bed of coals, Joey and the
others added more wood, stirring with metal paddles to mix the coals and new
wood together. Next to each lovo stood a 3-foot high pyramid of round river
rocks anywhere from five to eight inches in diameter.  Fireplace tongs were used
to carefully create an even layer of rocks over the fire bed.
	
Out came the prepared long pigs. Each had been thoroughly salted, stuffed with
dressing and laid out on a burlap sheet. The sheets had been soaked in water
until they were dripping then covered with banana stumps and ti leaves. The
burlap was wrapped around the girls, making sure that each body was fully
covered with the stumps and leaves. These would help permeate the human pork
with the smoky steamed flavour characteristic of long pig.
	
The burlap had then been sown together at the top using steel thread to attach a
series of rings. These rings would be used to place and remove the pigs from the
lovos. The final step in preparing the girls was to wrap a layer of chicken wire
around the burlap. This would help keep the girl's meat from falling off of the
bones before serving. Each burlap bundle was doused with twenty litres of New
Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and lowered into the lovo.
	
The remaining stones were layered around and on top of the long pig. Joey helped
to dump 100 pounds of lit charcoal over each lovo's second stone layer then
wrestle a metal sheet across the opening. Beside him Billy  shovelled dirt onto
the metal sheets until each was topped with a grave-like mound.
	
"This isn't exactly my idea of fast food," Billy commented to Joey. "Even my
mom's Thanksgiving turkey doesn't have to cook for 24 hours. I hope the wait and
all this work is worth it.  I still say nothing can beat a quality human cow
roasted over an open fire."
	
Twenty-four hours later, as he reached out to pull some thigh meat off the still
steaming girl, Billy was ready to admit that he was wrong. "Man, this is
delicious. This girl's meat is so tender just falls off the bone. I've never
tasted any girl at the fair that was this flavourful or so juicy.  I think I may
even have thirds of this long pig. We've got to do this more often."
	
Joey, who had been washing a mouthful of meat down with a swallow of yaqona, a
mildly narcotic drink made by the Fijians from the kava root, could only nod in
agreement. After passing  the wooden tanoa bowl to the person next to him, he
clapped his hands three times as custom required.
	
Turning around to look behind him, Joey spoke to Linda Sue. "I heard you spent a
couple of hours with Cakkobau yesterday after the girls were ready for the lovo.
Did you learn anything we could use?" Linda Sue's face, already ruddy from the
reflection of the fire, seemed to increase in its redness.
	
"I learned more about their customs and mores than I did about their cooking
techniques," she said carefully choosing her words to traverse a mine field.
"Those tattoos that all the girls had were part of the veiqia rite. The Fijians
use bamboo sliver or sharp shells dipped in ink to draw the lines and a special
pick made of coconut shell dipped in inks driven into the skin by a mallet to
make the dots. Cakkobau says they don't use any anesthetic so it's very painful.
The girls have to be held down by other girls and they say the men can hear
their screams echoing out into the bay. It takes almost a year for the tattooing
to be completed but, when it is, it's a sign that the girls are now young women
and eligible to be married.
	
"Cakkobau offered to have his duabati, the woman who does the tattoos, start on
mine now and complete it at next year's fair. Or I could just go back with him
to Oneata, that's his island, after the fair is over and have it done properly
in his village.
	
Having fallen under the influence of the yaqona Joey and Billy, began to giggle.
	
"I don't see what's so funny you two," Linda Sue replied huffily. "I could go to
Fiji if I wanted."
	
Billy managed to regain his self control long enough to explain to Linda Sue
that Cakkobau had ulterior motives for his friendly invitation.
	
"I was talking with Max Mignon, you know the guy that does all the purchasing of
human cattle for the food court. Max told me that Cakkobau asked about the cost
of buying human cattle and having them shipped back home. Max said that Cakkobau
said the price Max quoted was outrageous and that he'd get his own Long Pig from
America much cheaper than that.
	
"Max asked how he intended to get volunteers to be eaten. Cakkobau told him he
wasn't going to tell the women they were volunteering to be eaten; he was just
going to get them down there for other reasons. Said they'd find that out they
were on the menu just before the ritual slaughtering started."
	
"Al Crenshaw told me the same thing," said Joey,  filling in for Billy who was
now giggling so hard his sides hurt. "And that Cakkobau said he'd not only get
his meat cheaper, he'd get them to pay their own shipping and handling costs.  I
guess he must of had his eye on you. If you fly down to visit him on his island,
I'd give you two months tops before they were pulling you up out of a lovo,
steaming hot and ready to serve.
	
"Hon, if you want to go and be a long pig instead of a cow, I'd be the last to
stop you. Just let me know ahead of time so I can be there for the feast. After
all our time together, I wouldn't want you to be eaten by strangers."
	
Seething with anger Linda Sue got up and left the fire. She wasn't sure who see
was madder at: Cakkobau for deceiving her or Joey for enlightening her.  After a
few minutes a staggering Joey caught up with her.
	
"Hey, sweetheart, come on. I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to make you mad. I thought
you knew what the deal was. You've always been quick to figure out all the
angles. You've made most of the deals; you got my dad to let me enter the first
fair; you got Al Crenshaw to sponsor me; you found Valerie and made sure I
claimed her --- it was just funny to see that the Fijian had you so fooled about
what he really wanted."
	
Linda Sue stood still, her fury toward Joey somewhat abated. The young farmer
took her by the hand and began to lead her back to the party.
	
"Don't worry about it," he told her. "It could have been much worse. You know
that Alma Henderson from the aid society is actually going to go. She's already
bought her ticket. Told everyone she was going to serve the needs of the
heathens. She's stuck her pointy nose into so many other people's business that
nobody felt like telling her she was going to serve their needs on a wooden
platter.
	
"Lucy Dorsey's also going.  She's using her tip money from the restaurant to pay
her way. Jonny Quigley caught her in the tent with Cakkobau; she was licking the
last of his sperm off her face and the sides of his cock. Anyway, they had a big
fight and Lucy broke up with Jonny. Her mom's too drunk most of the time to care
what happens so she won't stop her. Jonny knows but he's so mad about that blow
job he's going to let her go. Says it'll serve her right. Like Jonny's never
stepped out on Lucy.
	
"So what if Cakkobau had you on his list. It just shows he's got good taste. I
think you'd probably taste pretty good myself, although if you were my cow I'd
have you spitted for a barbecue, not steamed in a lovo.  Since it's you I'd even
give in and use an oak fire. But I'd still use a spicy red sauce, that'd be a
good match with you.
	
"Anyway, come on back. It's a shame to let the rest of this feast go to waste,"
Joey cajoled. "Hey, you want to hear the strangest part about Lucy? Jonny says
that Cakkobau's tattoos go all the way down to his feet and even cover his dick.
Can you believe that?" Sure that she couldn't be seen blushing in the dark,
Linda Sue said that she could.
	
The couple had returned to the lovo. The Fijian girl had been served face up,
her legs stretched to their full length, her arms laid out parallel to the sides
of her chest.Her wavy, dark hair had come through the heat unscathed and was
fanned out to the sides and back of her head. While she was surrounded by limp
ti leaves and wilted banana stalks, she did not have an apple in her mouth.
	
The girl's bones were beginning to show their whiteness where her flesh had been
pulled away for consumption by the country cannibals. Some of the people were
breaking the girl's fingers and toes off from the torso and then sucking the
meat from the bones before throwing them into the lovo which received the
offerings with hissing and crackling.
	
Linda Sue noted that the area around the girl's cunt was hardly touched. Usually
this was considered a prized piece of meat at the fair. When she wondered out
loud why, a diner on the other side of the lovo complained about the taste.
	
"It's like eating overcooked raw fish, even though that sounds funny.  That meat
is oily just like raw fish, it's gritty and well, too smoky, or something.
Whatever caused it, it sure makes it taste nasty. That cunt steak just isn't
edible."
	
Linda Sue wanted to tell him that the taste was a result of the dye the Fijians
used to tattoo the girl with. Made of soot and ashes mixed with fish and turtle
oil, it would account for why such a usually prime cut of human cattle was so
unpalatable. But it was better not to direct Joey's attention to any portion of
her encounter with the Fijian cook. It wouldn't do to have him start wondering
about whether or not she too had seen the full extent of Cakkobau's tattoos.



Review This Story || Author: Eurytion
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