“You ever had meat stew?”
“My momma used to do it once a year with all the leftovers we had lyin’ around. She’d take a big ole pot and got to cuttin’ up all the meats she could find.”
“Didn’t matter what it was, lord knows momma would throw it in anyway.”
“Now, the thing about a stew like this? All the flavors would fight for dominance. With all those different cuts and kinds you’d be swirlin’ them in the pot as they all tried to come out on top.”
“And every year there would always be one clear winner when that soup hit my tongue.”
“Was it the soft, succulent veal?”
“How about the crispy burnt ends that got stuck at the bottom of the pot?”
“Sure, everything might find a reason to taste good, but the winner was never the strongest flavor!”
“Nah, the only winner when momma’s stew landed in my stomach was me.”
“I got a full belly, I got to devour every last morsel of meat and walk away from the table absolutely satisfied.”
“And all the meat sittin’ in that pot? The strongest flavor just earned the right to be called the tastiest loser.”
“Now, Lambs? I gotta say, it’s all too familiar to me. Comes ’round once a year and it culls all the old meat in Arcadia’s kitchen.”
“Think of that ring like momma’s pot. Hell, Zeus might even be the chef. See, he’s choppin’ up the meat, slingin’ blood and sinew as he scoops handfuls into the ring.”
“And all of those little morsels wanna be the winner, the strongest flavor on Zeus’ tongue.”
“Who’s it gonna be?”
“Is a piece of nasty, infected meat like Dr. Death gonna leave him satisfied?”
“What about the burnt scaps of Burned Man’s corpse? Or the young, innocent taste of Destructo Boy’s veal-like innards?”
“Teddy’s candied bacon? Drewitt’s dogmeat? Hell, maybe even a fat, roasted piggy like Chiba. All of ’em are gonna be battlin’ it out to show Zeus they’re the tastiest piece of meat sittin’ in his broth.”
“One by one the flavors meldin’ together until only one stands on top, one that no one can deny came the furthest and stands out the most!”
“And what does that tasty piece of flesh win for his efforts?”
“Not Zeus’ praise.”
“Not the reverence of the crowd.”
“No, the only thing they win is the prestige of bein’ the last thing I taste as I gobble ’em down.”
“Because I ain’t in the stew, boys! I’m the one eatin’ it. So fight all you want, shed that blood and season the pan. Because when all’s said and done? The strongest flavor, the boy who comes second? He’ll be going down my gullet like the rest.”
“This meat stew is gonna be just like momma used to make. Bloody, messy, and delicious.”
“My compliments to the chef, Zeus.”
“We got lambs to slaughter and stew to devour.”
“Now why don’t we ring that dinner bell?”