I Wrote This An Hour After I Woke Up - Tumblr Posts

Do You Serve Cunt?

CW: you get served some pussy, idk what else to tell ya, semantics? i also don’t know word fits best but yeah confusion over cunt here

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A very popular restaurant for the undead in your city. It’s frequented by vampires, ghouls, mummies, and like the owner themself, zombies. You’ve never eaten there nor heard from anyone who has.

You’re quite the curious creature yourself, despite being 97% human. After a long and hard day at work you decide to eat out somewhere. Your mistake.

You start at your favorite restaurant. It’s lines are never long and the food is spectacular. Only your luck and forgetfulness have failed you. It’s Friday. No matter where you go it’ll be packed to the gills. Already you see a line forming at the desk and before you can claim a spot it gets long enough to start going out the door.

Your second option is finding a fast food joint. Again you’re reminded that it’s the worst day of the week to spontaneously do something. Every single one you drive to is filled with an insane amount of people, cars, and monsters alike.

You almost give up on your plan, that is until you catch a glimpse at a bright pink neon sign. Zella’s House. Its minty brick walls beckon you. You pull up some of the reviews. Most of them mention great customer service and… interesting fashion choices by the wait staff. A couple reviews speak highly of the food. One particular comment dominates your sight.

“There’s a secret menu item that you can only get through this phrase, ‘Do you serve cunt?’

Best thing I’ve ate in over 40 years 😋”

You had to go now. Your foot stomps on the gas pedal, easily pushing 50mph, you chase the prospect of eating at such a wonderful place.

Within a couple minutes, you pull into the parking lot. If the number of cars there tells you anything, it’s definitely not packed. You approach the glass double doors with so many gay thoughts it’s unreal.

A couple patrons turn to stare at you when you come in. It’s a bit unsettling to have a bunch of ghouls and zombies stare at you, but at least they don’t seem to want to eat you. The entryway walls are painted with a soft caramel glow from the overhead lights. On any other day you might have the choice of orange walls, today you wanted to live dangerously. The rug beneath your feet makes you feel like you're walking on air. At the end of the hall stood a surprisingly scantily dressed hostess, who was eagerly watching you. “Table for one?” she swiftly asks. Her twitching customer service smile reveals rows and rows of sharp teeth.

“Yes?”

She points you to a table off in a corner. Despite the frightening atmosphere from the people, there’s a warm feeling in everything here. This place is well decorated with lots of reds and purples in the dining area, the floors and tables are clean, and last but not least the beauty and drama of the staff’s outfits. You can’t lie, the hostess absolutely slayed. Her neon thigh high boots perfectly matched her top and lipstick.

Your assessments are interrupted by a waiter now standing by your table. For a ghoul, he appeared pretty lively. It’s likely due to the makeup he wore. His almost ghastly pale face bore a more living skin tone base and a menagerie of colors decorating the rest of him. He tries to hand you a menu but you automatically refuse. You know exactly what you came here for. The phrase slips past your lips with practiced ease.

“Do you serve cunt at this glorious establishment?”

The waiter is shocked, and other patrons fall silent as well. He graciously takes the menu back. “How would you like it?” he asks timidly.

“Rare.”

You lose sight of him as he enters the kitchen. Your hands tremble with anxious excitement. A bold move for a first time customer here. Yet you did it, you’re proud of yourself.

That sense of pride follows you as you wait for your meal. No more than 4 minutes later your waiter comes back with a dish and lid. Fancy. And a brand new hat obviously inspired by the Queen of Hearts.

He does a beautiful twirl before gently setting the plate down while gradually going into a foreword split.

“Enjoy~”

You lift the top to reveal the magical thing that had Johnisgone445 crying tears of joy and seeing stars.

On the ornate plate sat a fat, juicy cunt. Like an actual vulva, there, where your food is supposed to be.

No doubt about it, it’s very well prepared (as far as you can tell). It smells decadent with just the right amount of fresh organ smell. Though you do have a few qualms about the dot of whip cream on the clit and stragglers of chocolate covered pubic hair, it doesn’t seem half-bad.

You quickly come to your senses. Of course! This restaurant serves a variety of underrepresented monsters. Mostly the ones with a particular diet of flesh and blood. It makes sense once you really think about it. Still it begs the question, “why did they still serve you even though you’re a human?”

Fin~