SCRIPT - The Raftel Diet (Patreon)

Very loosely based on a twitter text post by Specterfingers on twitter.

A one shot script about a curious vore artist, who, after seeing it promoted on TV by a celebrity as a health fad, buys a small home trial kit of Prey - artificially bred miniature humans made solely for the purposes of consumption. This is pure speculative horror fiction and it is conceptually extremely dark.

I don't think I can give adequate content warnings for this but I'll try: vore, macro/micro, cannibalism, blood, mentions of human waste products and the removal of them, discussion of the ethics of livestock farming, coarse language.

There's probably some more I haven't covered just because I wouldn't really know how to but proceed with caution.

AR = Artist roomate

CR = Clerk roomate

MH = Mimi Hadeed

MF = Madds Fawbkey

B = Butler

ER = Ernest Raftel

–

An artist is drawing macro/micro vore on his laptop in the living room. The details he puts into the character with loving detail. Suddenly his roommate, a clerk, bursts into the room.

CR: Dude, dude, turn on the fucking TV.

AR: What? Why? Did the Queen of England finally die?

CR: No dude, they made vore real.

They sit down on the couch and turn on the TV to The Nightly Hour Show with Madds Fawbkey. There is a lady in the chair beside the host.

AR: Hey, that lady there is - ain't she the one who tried to make money by selling her piss as a form of incense?

CR: Mimi Hadeed? Yeah, she's more well known for playing Zantra in the Memphis Towers trilogy than that other thing though.

MF: So Mimi tell me about this new fad diet.

MH: It's no fad, Madds, it's here to stay. And we're eating the Dr Raftel way.

CR: God, she's so annoying-

AR: Shh.

MH: They're called Prey, and it's basically like eating a smaller version of a person. Don't worry, they're not a person person. Look, I have a box here, I'll show you.

She pulls out a plastic tub and pulls out one of the Prey inside it. They really are just small humans. They don't appear to have genitals.

MH: What better way to have all the nutrition needed in a person than to have something packaged in a way that reflects that. They're high in protein, vitamins, minerals - they're a great wonder for your gut health and are magic for the complexion of one's skin.

The two watching TV have no words. Back on TV, Mimi puts the tub away.

MF: So how does one engage with the Raftel diet?

MH: Simple: you just eat a few Prey a day, and you keep the doctor away. They're best swallowed whole. As you can imagine, it's a bit messy otherwise.

Cut back to the two watching TV

AR: This can't be real... No fucking way….

CR: This breaks the Geneva convention for sure.

MH: And now in collaboration with Raftrous and Mezazeen, we're putting out official Mimi Hadeed, branded and approved, all natural probiotic prey. The first 500 customers get a 10% discount. We're also putting out a grow at home version as a trial. So get on that boat, folks, I have it in me that they'll sell out fast - you don't want to miss this new revolutionary eco-friendly way to stay in good health and heart. Prey is here to stay.

The artist roommate sits there speechless but his expression indicates he genuinely is thinking about it.

SEVERAL DAYS LATER

The clerk roommate walks in to find the artist roommate fiddling with a large tank, the Raftrous logo seen in the corner with a bunch of weird contraptions, packets of gelatinous feed, and a pipet strewn on the table.

CR: Dude. What the fuck. You bought one of the trial kits?

AR: Uhh… Well… You know…

CR: No, I don't know! Dude, what the fuck happened to fiction not being reality or whatever.

AR: Yeah, well… You can't blame me for being curious.

CR: Yes I can, and yes I will. There are just some lines I don't think anyone should cross and buying a farm of little humans to eat is probably one of them.

AR: I'm not trying to justify myself but they're technically not people they're Pre-

CR: Yes you are dude, yes you are.

AR:But hear me out - where do you think the frozen chicken nuggets in the freezer come from? I mean, it's no different from that, right? Neither of us are vegans, I don't think ethics are really worth bringing into it, you know?

CR: I think there's a big difference between chickens, and humans.

AR: Well, these aren't technically humans, they're officially called Prey. Looking at the instructions they're sterile and you have to activate them by stimulating these… embryos…? They're like in one of the containers here. They take about 2 to 3 weeks to grow into maturity before you can eat them.

CR: Oh my god. It's like one of those… Did you ever have sea monkeys as a kid? The little shrimp eggs you just add water to. Or maybe even like an art farm. Or maybe even like, when you buy carrot seed from the store except the carrots are like, alive? This is terrible, I hate it.

AR: You don't have to watch. You don't have to eat any of it. You can just close your eyes, I spent my money on this, it's my responsibility.

LATER

Important note: You never actually see the Prey during developing stages on screen.

CR: Holy shit.

AR: What do you think?

CR: I hate it. There are tiny babies on my fucking table. Tiny babies! On my table!

AR: I gotta feed them the special food they provided in the kit - three times a day using this pippet. If I run out of the provided stuff, there's instructions on how to make your own equivalent but they recommend you buy the official pack stuff from the source.

CR: Okay, genuine question: Do these things, these little humans, piss and shit?

AR: They're called Prey, they're not little humans. That makes me uncomfortable how you keep saying that. Anyway, umm let's see…

The artist roommate stares at the instructions.

AR: Okay they do… and… clean up is… their shit is like… a bit like how budgie poop is? I guess this is just unavoidable when you have to do it yourself.

CR: I feel sick, just hearing you talk about this shit. Literally.

AR: But yeah, they provide tweezers that you can just, pick the stuff up with.

A WEEK LATER

CR: Still messing with the kit?

AR: Yeah, well, it's kind of a full time responsibility.

CR: They're growing up fast, huh?

AR: Yeah, I've gone ahead and named each of them! There's like, 20 of them.

CR: I feel like we should both be in jail for bearing witness to this.

AR: I'm kind of like a dad to these guys. If dad was like, also their god.

CR: Prey. Huh. I can't look at them and think, oh these guys, these little growing guys, mmm food… I guess it's too late now but…

AR: I do see what you mean. They don't talk and maybe everything they do is just kind of a reflex but… hmmm…

2 WEEKS LATER

The artist is shown happily feeding one of his Prey food through the pipet. There is joy in his expression as he watches them run around in the environment within the tank.

CR: Hey uh… It's been like, 3 weeks, aren't you done?

AR: Huh?

CR: The Prey, they're done, they're all grown up now so you can… you know what you fucking bought them for.

AR: What? Wait… I…

The artist stares blankly at the clerk. He then furrows his brow.

AR: I kind of… forgot that was the point? I guess I got really attached to raising my farm, I guess.

CR: You're going to have to do something about it, I don't think the… What are they called again? Prey? Have long lifespans at all. If I were to make an estimate at all, they all look like they're in their early 30s.

AR: I uh… I didn't really think about that.

CR: Well, what does the instructions say?

AR: Let's see… uh… It says, consume within 7 days after they reach maturity or they will expire… I've gotten kind of attached though. They're like, my babies - I raised them. I can't eat them!

CR: Well, it was your idea to buy the kit in the first place. If you wanted to try it, you should've just bought the prepackaged box like the one they showed on TV. Even then though, there's a reason this stuff isn't supposed to be real in any way.

AR: Maybe if I just, let them free in the wild? It'll be fine?

CR: So they can just die out there? Fail to survive in harsh conditions, ravaged by predators, suffer from hypothermia - honestly that sounds way worse.

AR: But if I just leave them they'll grow old and die…

CR: And we'd have to put dead little humans in our fucking compost bin. Yeah, that's gonna leave a permanent scar on my mind, that thought.

AR: Well, maybe we could just bury them instead.

CR: Literally where, we don't have a garden and we live above a shoe shop.

AR: The uhh… The park? If we go at 2am and no one's there…?

CR: Be real about this, are you actually willing to do that?

AR:… God damn it, fuck!

CR: See, I told you this was a terrible investment from the start. You're going to have to eat them, there's no other way.

AR: No! I can't do this!

CR: Again, this was your idea. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it.

AR: But I… Is there no other way to do this?

CR: You want me to look online?

AR: Sure. I mean, even just eating them whole and alive like you're supposed to I just… I don't think I could? They'd suffer horribly and…

CR: Quick question for you dude: Do you have to do the shrimp thing with them.

AR: What…? Huh…?

CR: Their insides, do they have to be removed.

AR: Umm… The instructions say that optimally to remove grit, before consumption you have to… N-no, oh god no.

CR: What.

AR: You take the tweezers… insert in the rectal cavity until you hit resistance. Pinch down… and… and… P-Pull. Until you take out… I… Oh god… I can't do it, I can't do it, I just can't.

CR:'Well, then, don't do it then. You don't have to. Also looking up online you don't have to eat them whole. You can also just, cook them.

AR: Oh, please no, oh no.

CR: It's like that one video of that lady with the quails on YouTube. The farm prep ones that appear in my recommendations even though I keep telling the damn site I don't want to see it. Anyway point is one of the video had the lady relax the quail in her hand, holding its head down with a thumb. Then she got these shears and in instant she just. Snip. No resistance, head's just off and she slices the bird right open and-

AR: STOP! STOP! I don't want to think about it.

CR: I hate to be that guy but just look at this. The cooked Prey meat does actually look good on a skewer. They also recommend over feeding the prey so you get more skin, and the fat is good to cook i-

AR: How can you just talk about them like they're-

CR: Like they're food? Which is exactly what I said from the start.

AR: Okay let me think about this. Our options are just let them die peacefully by letting them just get old, abandoning them so they die anyway but that's mean so I won't do that, or eating them.

CR: We could also just torture and kill them for fun, but I think we won't do that because that would be a sick fuck thing to do, and we're not sick fucks.

AR: What?

CR: Like someone uploaded a video on liveleak of them just smashing Prey to bits with a hammer.

AR: Oh my god that's horrific.

CR: And technically it's legal because Prey don't count as animals, nor do they count as humans.

AR: Make it end! This sucks!

CR: Well, it's your choice dude.

AR: If I decide to do something, will you also promise to do it with me?

CR: Absolutely not. This is your responsibility. Unless you're going to put the Prey thoroughly cooked on some skewers, I'm not interested.

AR: Fine. I get it. Fuck. Are you just going to sit there and watch?

CR: I mean, I guess?

AR: Okay, how about this, I just… Eat one like you're supposed to and see how I feel about it. Then afterwards I decide… what to do next…

CR: Sounds like a plan.

AR: I'm sorry Krich, but you're… Up I guess…

CR: You named one of them "Kritch"? What kind of a name is that?

AR: I'm not good at names, don't judge me!

The artist picks up the Prey with two fingers. The Prey looks at him with a blank smile, reaching out their arms.

AR: I feel sick. I feel like I'm eating one of my own children. I raised Krtich for their entire 3 weeks of being alive and now I have to eat them. Oh god what a world. Fuck you Mimi Hadeed and your stupid appearance on the stupid Madds Fawbkey show.

The artist takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He opens his mouth, tilting his head back, gently lowering the Prey in his mouth. He shuts his jaw but after a while just spits the Prey back out on his hand.

AR: I can't do it. I can't fucking do it.

CR: Come on, don't be a pussy. You have to justify this purchase somehow

AR: No this sucks!

CR: So you're just going to leave it then?

AR: No, I- Fuck. I'm going to try again, I just… I need time to just get my emotions all together.

CR: That's fair.

The artist tries again. After a deep breath he shoves the prey in his hand to his mouth. After a bit he swallows. He breathes out. He looks well and truly dead inside.

AR: I can feel Kritch moving. Oh god, oh Jesus, forgive me. This is horrible.

He clasps his hands over his mouth and starts gagging. He then starts sobbing.

CR: There, there, you did… Something… I can't really say anything reassuring. I'm really sorry.

AR: They didn't even taste good. Tastes exactly what someone who hasn't had a shower since they were born would taste.

The clerk looks at the instructions.

CR: Yeah, looks like you were supposed to thoroughly wash them before eating when it comes to the home grown kind.

AR: Urghh… Why… Why the fuck did I think this would be a good idea…The movements… I can feel it…

CR: Yeesh…

AR: Do you think… Do you think they feel pain…?

CR: I wouldn't know… if they're artificially made to be eaten, you'd hope they'd take that out of them.

AR: It doesn't last long, I can feel the movements… slowing down…

CR: Well, let's have a moment of silence to remember the life and times of… what was their name again?

AR: Kritch.

CR: Kritch. Still, a really dumb name, I think you should have definitely consulted me for naming these lil guys.

There are a few panels of nothing happening as the two guys stand in silence.

AR: The movement has stopped.

CR: Welp, that's over and done with I guess. Now what?

AR: …

There is a page of pitch blackness

The next page opens with the clerk with his hand to his mouth, only to pull away and reveal a skewer rod with a few meat bits.

CR: These skewers are delicious, oh my goodness, whoever came up with the recipe for this - mad genius.

He puts the emptied skewer back down on the plate in front of him and goes to grab another. He gnaws on it.

CR: Come on, cheer up, you'll feel better once you have one. You must trust me, this tastes really, really good.

AR: I can point to each one and tell you which of them they were.

He points to a bit of meat on the skewer in front of him.

AR: That one's Jinblo, I can tell because of the mole on the skin.

CR: You really needed to come up with better names for your guys.

AR: There's something so wrong feeling about this.

CR: I don't think you have a right to complain, you were the one who bought the Prey in the first place. At least like this, it's not a complete waste.

The clerk continues to eat while the artist stares down at his plate.

CR: If you're not going to eat your portions, can I have them?

AR: ...Sure.

Cut to a completely different scene. Billionaire Ernest Raftel sits at his dining table. His bowl full of Prey. He stabs his fork in the torso of one of the livelier ones and brings them to his lips. Without hesitation he bites down and rips them in half with his teeth. Blood dripping down his face. He chews and swallow. His butler arrives with some wine.

B: Would this be all, Mr Raftel?

ER: That's Sir to you.

B: My apologies, Sir. Can I interest you in anything else?

Raftel stabs his fork into the bowl again.

ER: Can you see if you can call the agents of some of those social media influencer types - see if they'll take me up on my offer again?

B: Absolutely, Sir.

ER: Wonderful.

B: Would that be all, Sir?

Raftel licks the blood from his lips.

ER: How familiar are you with quotes from Theodore Roosevelt?

B: Not particularly so.

Raftel swirls the wine in his glass.

ER: Then I shall impart my favourite quote of his to you.

B: It is a pleasure to have you share this knowledge with me, Sir.

ER: I do not believe there was ever a life more attractive than life on a cattle farm.

THE END