Since the prison doors of Persephone had been throw open, and its unwilling inhabitants used in macabre experiments by Rapture's scientists, no soul had need of the kitchen, and no one ever visited. Except for one lone Toasty splicer.
Having staggered through Rapture, drained by the constant hunger for ADAM, the splicer arrived at the last place he'd probably ever find the drug he craved. Perhaps it was part of a human curiosity, perhaps it was the twisted way his brain perceived colors and shapes, but from the corner of his functional eye he spotted a bizarre scarlet drip trailing from a half open cabinet.
"Wh't 's that?" he grumbled, opening door to investigate the strange colored substance. "Its like ADAM… looks like ADAM… !" But unfortunately for the pitiful splicer it wasn't ADAM at all. AS he yanked the cabinet open, the package that seeped the mysterious substance fell with a burst on the counter.
Toasty sneezed, waving the pink dust from his eye and nose. "Fuckin' thing, it ain't-" Watching in wonder, the dust settled in the pool of water on the counter, liquid becoming thick and red. An experimental test proved the substance felt like ADAM, a quick lick of his finger proved it wasn't, damnit what was this flavor? He wracked his brain, having difficulty in conjuring memories from before splicing, it was a normal food flavor, he knew that, but what? Taking a swift lick of the red pool the word came to him for only a brief moment before he lost it again.
The splicer growled in aggravation, licking the counter once more, in attempt to remember the word. So annoyed was he that he slipped, landing in the same concoction that decorated the countertop, on the floor. "Damnit... now wh't do I do?"
Stripping himself of the tattered shirt and pants, now covered in the mysterious matter, he resumed his quest to discover the name of the taste. The plasma-like concoction squirmed between his dirty fingers as he placed his hand on the counter again. Toasty licked at his digits for a minute before halting and gazing at his hand in wonder and curiosity. The thought of discovering the flavor rushed out of his crazed mind and was replaced with the delighted infantile need to play with the thick red stuff coating his fingers.
And so he did. Gathering up from the counter and floor, the piles of half formed jell-o were caressed, squished, licked and rubbed all over his naked torso. The toasty splicer giggled with delight, loving how it dripped down his back and chest, loving to lick his shoulders and arms clean of it just to smear it back on.
A large clop landed square between his legs, seeping through the worn briefs. The childish play was replaced by a more adult need as a long dormant organ became roused and stimulated by the slick sweet jelly. In carnal fascination, Toasty gathered a handful of jelly from the floor and stuck his hand in his underwear, stroking his prick with the cool, gritty jell.
Feeling things he hadn't in a long while, Toast pumped his member with one hand, and pouring more jelly on it with the other. "Unn.. fuckin' god.. don't see why she didn't like me…." He grunted, going as quick and coordinated as his bizarre body would allow.
His groans filled the prison kitchen, so loud anyone in the cellblock would have heard him. At the pace he was going, it wasn't long before the splicer's vision blurred and he had some semblance of an orgasm.
Collapsing on the broken floor, chest heaving, he suddenly opened his eye and shouted. "I remember the damn flavor now… its strawberry!"