Fresh Meat Page #2

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I feel it. In here.

You and I have the same blood

running through our veins.

- Are you nuts?

- No, no. D-N-A.

We share the same DNA, my friend.

The origins of the Maori take us all

the way back to the highlands of Taiwan.

And I'm publishing a book about it.

Steal these off your dad?

F***.

You turned me onto cooking, Mrs.

Crane. Crock pots, in particular.

I always thought they were for old people

and families before I read your book.

I really connected to how

it was for you when you

left Morrinsville and went

fledding in the Big Smoke.

I came off a farm, too.

"50 ways to cook a spud."

You're a.. Do you mind

if I call you Margaret?

Johnny.

- Johnny.

- You're a culinary genius, Margaret.

- You're a Maori, right?

- Yeah. What else would I be?

I don't know. A Pacific Islander?

You all look the same to me, anyway.

Look, I've got nothing against the Maoris.

Not the girls, anyway.

You wanna save your family, yeah?

Take these off.

I've only got one hand at the moment.

And it makes it

a bit difficult, especially

when I'm holding the gun.

The fall of the tahiwalker.

What?

The fall of the tahiwalker.

And do you where the beating heart

of this new culture lies, my friend?

No.

Martial arts.

Oh, that's great! That's f***ing great!

Quite possibly the dumbest sh*t I've ever

seen. Who the hell do you think you are?

My name is Crane. Dr. Hemi Crane, professor

of religious studies at Central University.

That says Associate Professor.

Some people are doing their best to ensure

us Maori don't move up the academic ranks.

You're funny, Doc.

Hands full. Sorry.

I've got other skills.

Well, then, you better show me your CV.

You seem more interested

in those than I am.

- Have a line.

- I'm OK.

Have a line.

- Have you tried my sausage rolls?

- F***in' A.

Dad had his sixtieth

earlier this year and Mom

ordered all to meat

dishes from your site.

I've just got one question.

It's about pettis...

Ask away.

It's such a delicate flavor.

No quite pork, but close.

I never tasted anything like them.

Thin, but tender.

It almost turns to jelly

before melting in your mouth.

Got the little bastard.

Jesus! What the f*** is that?

- It's a prosthetic.

- Well, looks like a hand to me.

A fake hand. A prop.

- Ah, this is the sh*t!

- You can say that again.

- Solomon Ihaia Smith.

- Ihaia.

Solomon Ihaia Smith was

a 19-century prophet.

His father was Irish

Catholic, his mother Maori.

He and his congregation committed

mass suicide by swallowing poison.

- But his word lives on.

- Boom, what a badass motherf***er!

And get this. To his most loyal followers,

he promised the gift of immortality.

Oh!

Oh!

No!

What? Why did you do that? I'm

your biggest fan, Margaret.

Put the gun down.

- No!

- What the f***!

You, too. Hey, you wanna tell

the whole neighborhood we're here?

Scream was loud enough to wake the dead.

- What happened?

- She came on to me.

And just bit me when I was pushing her off.

She made you put on her

panties, didn't she, babe?

That's right.

- And her bra?

- That's right!

You're a sick little girl.

- But I didn't...

- ...dangerous.

Girls like you should be locked up.

Throw him his clothes.

You better go see if Johnny's got

something in his magic first-aid kit.

Watch her. She's pretty frisky.

Don't look too immortal now, bro.

You're gonna let him get away with that?

What?

You're fine about your boyfriend

molesting school girls?

And by the way, he couldn't even get

a hard-on until he put on my undies.

- But, you already know the prick.

- You need to shut your face, kid.

Okay.

Her name's Hine Whae Ao.

- What's her special power?

- I haven't decided yet.

Everyone's got a special property.

Had me going there for a bit, Doc.

Almost believed you were immortal.

No more f***ing mumbo-jumbo.

Hey, bring them all to the living

room. We've gotta stick together.

Such stealth.

There's something I have to tell you.

It's about Mom and Dad.

Don't freak. I found a hand in the fridge.

- Oh, that.

- What do you mean, "that"?

I told you about a

person's hand in the fridge.

Just leftovers.

Don't worry about it.

Dad's reviving one of the eighteenth-

century post-colonial religions.

The Solomonites. It's

all about eating people.

What?

Dad initiated me into the

religion while you were away.

How?

I've been Solomonized.

He would actually force you

to eat human flesh, yet.

- Right?

- They didn't have to force me.

- Just like they didn't have to force you.

- They ain't.

You know those pork and

rosemary pies we sent you.

That wasn't pork. You're a cannibal, too.

No! No.

- I even helped Dad find the meat.

- What meat? What do you mean "find"?

Try anything, I'll break your nose.

It's sticking to me.

Lift your arms up.

- Need help with your pants?

- Yeah, I got ...

- Hurry up. Get dressed.

- But I still stink.

A little soap might help.

Where's that b*tch girl?

She bit me. F***ing kill her!

Whoa, dude!

- Kill the f***ing lot of them. Let's go.

- You having your period?

- Hey! That's my brother!

- You, wonder boy. Kill 'em now.

Do you have any idea how

famous the mother is?

Stop pointing your

gun at my brother.

- She's a New Zealand icon.

- I wouldn't go that far.

Point the gun away!

She's my hostage, not yours.

I decide what happens to her.

Thank you, Johnny.

Don't think I'm finished

with you yet, Margaret.

Oh, first names, how sweet.

Dude, you hurt her, the whole

country'll be after us.

Guns down, boys. Still need the hostages.

You need a rest.

And he's even got a girl's ass.

Eh, I'm just saying.

Sit down.

Hey, chef! Is there anything

to eat in your house?

- There's food in the pantry.

- Kid's a genius.

Food in the pantry.

You made me eat someone

without my knowledge.

- And let's talk about this later.

- You're sick?

That's what you think

now, but...you'll get

used to the idea, maybe

even see the benefits.

You're my parents. You're

supposed to be my moral compass.

- How could you?

- We're still here for you, babe.

And Solomon is your future. It's because

of him our family will grow strong.

- Blood is thicker than water.

- And a lot tastier.

- Where is Paul with the munchies?

- Maybe he took off.

- Made a deal with the police.

- No, he f***ing didn't!

If he's gone, it's 'cos

he's run out of drugs.

Wow, Paul's on drugs.

I'll go find him.

Remember, dead hostages

are an oxymoron.

- A what?

- They don't work.

- What are they doing?

- Praying.

Well, they can cut it out.

Maori language week is over.

Only smart thing you've

done all day, wonder boy.

I read that article in the

"New Idea". Now that I've

met him, I don't blame you

for having the affair.

The cops are here. Paul's

gone, I can't find him.

He wouldn't just leave.

Ritchie, he's an addict, he gone. I'm

the boss now, you do what I say, okay?

- Sure thing, little lady.

- Get up.

Well, hi there.

Officer Lance Nisbet.

Rina.

I've come to inform you that there

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