AN Hi everyone! This story is going to be gory so, as per the warning in the description, if you're not of an appropriate age or are disturbed by viscera flying everywhere, keep away! Might be some sexy times later on too. This is set in the same time period as Sweeny Todd. Let me know your thoughts in the comments! Thanks

Cindy Potts sighed, her hands on her heavy hips, as she stared into the oven. There was nothing in the world so rewarding as watching suet pastries cook, with no filling leaking out, no soggy bottom and best of all, no high cost of meat. Because these were 'Mrs Potts' Pies'; a secret recipe that tasted somewhat like pork but with a softer, stringier texture. The meat was slow cooked with onions and other flavourful vegetables, enriching the sauce with nutrients and, more importantly, a taste rivalled by no other.

And it was a foolproof business plan. No health inspector – where there such a thing in these country parts? – was going to come looking around a private kitchen. And anyway, there was nothing to find. All bones and nasty bits were burned, ground and scattered into the forest. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, puff pastry, suet, and of course, short crust.

Pleased with her little rhyme, the portly woman opened the oven and pulled out the tray of two dozen pies, ready for the next batch to go in. Right on time, Maurice, Belle's father knocked on the back door and came in to put the previous batch in his cart. In the local town, the pies sold quicker when they were warm but of course not too warm, as the steam they created in the cart could make them soggy (this they had found out the hard way and it would NOT happen again).

Maurice was the one aspect of Mrs Potts 'foolproof' business model that concerned her. He was a good, solid worker despite his age, not a bad lover, but upstairs, the brain department was lacking. He was shoddy and bragged about the 'secret ingredient' too much, and of course his unconditional love for his daughter made him soppy when it came to grinding up women and putting them in pies. He wanted to keep things noble and use only what they called 'slop' – meat from people who were rapists, thieves, bullies or murderers too. But, as she had pointed out irritably, they were making pies, not becoming a crime fighting duo. They couldn't investigate burglaries every time the larder was empty. So they took who wouldn't be missed – the homeless, the insane, the shut-ins, those about to move away. And so far, they were making a pretty penny, the master of the house had no idea, and the population of the village stayed at a good level.

'Smells delicious if you don't know what it is, eh Mrs Potts?' Maurice grimaced. As of late, he had been showing more and more distaste for the venture, and Cindy worried. They would hang for this if caught, but she needed the money if her son Chip was to live a life outside of being a kitchen boy.

'That's all loaded up. See you tomorrow Mrs Potts' Maurice's words jerked her out of her reverie.

'Of course. Don't be late'. Maurice feigned offence, then went on his way. Cindy locked the doors behind him and had a cup of tea while she waited for the batch for tomorrow morning - which would be served cold, as workers would buy them on the way to work and then eat them cold for lunch anyway.

'Mrs Potts? I just wanted to go over next week's menu with you?' Belle, newly married to Prince Adam walked into the kitchen. Mrs Potts flushed a little. Belle wouldn't recognise the smell of human meat cooking if it smacked her in the face (as it was currently) but Mrs Potts liked her and if she asked for a pie there was no viable excuse why she could not have one. Best move her on somewhere else where the smell didn't linger.

'They smell lovely! It's so kind of you to use your spare time to cook for the homeless' Belle gushed, her usual excitable self.

'Thank you Ma'am. Shall we go in the other room? It's awfully hot in here' Mrs Potts gestured to the parlour, away from the oven.

'Of course'.

Once they were a little further from the kitchen, Cindy relaxed a little.

'We are throwing a party next month to make a special announcement so we were wondering if you could make some special dishes for it? Not a feast as such, just a table of food where people can go and help themselves, as we did for the Prince's birthday?'

'Of course, how exciting! What is the occasion, may I ask?' Mrs Potts stifled a yawn, expecting the response to be something about a visiting dignitary. But Belle blushed and looked at her hands.

'Well…it's early days yet so we don't want to tell anyone until then but..well, I'm expecting'. Belle rubbed her stomach a little which, now that she was sitting down and her dress fell different, Mrs Potts could notice was a little rounded.

'Oh Ma'am! How exciting! Oh this is such happy news!'

'Well that's something else I'd like to speak to you about Mrs Potts' Belle, flushed, smiled encouragingly at the older woman. Cindy gulped. She could tell something big was coming and she hoped to God that it wouldn't affect the business. She needed the money. She might spend her whole life in service, but Chip wouldn't. He was too bright for that, he was going to go to school with the pie money, she would see to that.

'We would love to move you out of the kitchens and have you looking after the baby, you've got such a good hand with Chip and you're not getting any younger and the trays in the kitchen are heavy and so on-'

Belle droned on but Mrs Potts barely heard her. There was no way she could abandon the pie business. But there was no way she could tell the master she didn't want to look after his baby. And there was no guarantee that the new cook wouldn't find a knuckle bone or the like that had fallen down the back of the cooker….

She was royally up the shit creek without a paddle.

To be continued