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Description
You smell it before you see it, the forbidden food. The warm tang hangs in the air and your stomach acts accordingly, rumbling its protests that you haven't started devouring it yet and almost against your will you find yourself walking towards it. Sharp hunger-pangs run though you as you look down at the meal, a wave of disgust rolls through you, but it disappears as your teeth meet the still-warm skin. Teeth sink through the flesh, stripping both it and fat from bone; and you're rewarded by a warm gurgle from your stomach, it's recognition that the craving is being met. You pull away from the bone, tossing it into a starting pile and move onto the next one, moving faster now as the taste explodes in your mouth again, taste buds savouring every mouthful. The bone is stripped too quickly, and this one to is thrown onto the growing pile with a sickening sound. Again and again the pattern repeats. Disgust fills you as you finish the last one; tossing it onto the now large pile of bones you lick your fingers, cleaning the sticky mess away from your skin, tongue sweeping around your lips, savouring the last of the taste. Eyes half closed in contentment you don't notice the waiter as he walks warily up to your table, you don't blame him in the least.
"Can I get you anymore chicken wings?"

Description
You smell it before you see it, the forbidden food. The warm tang hangs in the air and your stomach acts accordingly, rumbling its protests that you haven't started devouring it yet and almost against your will you find yourself walking towards it. Sharp hunger-pangs run though you as you look down at the meal, a wave of disgust rolls through you, but it disappears as your teeth meet the still-warm skin. Teeth sink through the flesh, stripping both it and fat from bone; and you're rewarded by a warm gurgle from your stomach, it's recognition that the craving is being met. You pull away from the bone, tossing it into a starting pile and move onto the next one, moving faster now as the taste explodes in your mouth again, taste buds savouring every mouthful. The bone is stripped too quickly, and this one to is thrown onto the growing pile with a sickening sound. Again and again the pattern repeats. Disgust fills you as you finish the last one; tossing it onto the now large pile of bones you lick your fingers, cleaning the sticky mess away from your skin, tongue sweeping around your lips, savouring the last of the taste. Eyes half closed in contentment you don't notice the waiter as he walks warily up to your table, you don't blame him in the least.
"Can I get you anymore chicken wings?"