::How To Make Chicken::

Hi.

I'm Jessica and I'm pissed off.

Really pissed off.

I'm pissed off because someone stole something very dear from me.

Her name is Bellatrix Lestrange and because of her madness, I lost the one I love so dearly; Sirius Black.

I tried to forget, but I couldn't. I tried to forgive, but I couldn't. My desire for vengeance is too strong. So I decided I would. I would avenge my lost love.

I made my plan. And went to England to get my pray myself. It's very easy to catch something that doesn't know it's hunted. So I did. I did catch her.

I wanted to be original and even wanted to catch her with something she would never forget, had she not died this victorious day.

My torture for her; being caught by something she loathes. A Muggle thing.

So I shot her down with a deafening pistol. Easy as that.

It was only when she woke, tied up in the kitchen, when she realized she had been kidnapped by a Muggleborn or even maybe a Muggle.

I sat on the dresser when she woke and grinned at her when she saw me.

She didn't know who I was and was really pissed off first. I told her who I was and after that I showed her the book I was holding.

'Margriet cooking book'

I told her why she was here and what was bothering me. She didn't seem to care and couldn't keep her mouth shut. Then I turned around and got myself an apron. Then I turned to the bitch again and told her that Sirius favourite food was meat. Especially chicken.

I opened the book on the dresser and found the right pages. I turned to her once again and grinned again.

"I bet you have a house elf, don't you?" I said. She answered by spitting at me and shrieking something I accepted as a yes. The spit didn't hit me. I was wearing an apron after all.

So I continued: "Then I presume you never learned to cook." (shriek shriek blahblahblah)

Then I told her what I was about to do:

I told her I was about to teach her… how to make chicken.

I walked over to the book and read aloud: "First, when you shot the pray, you have to pluck it."
I turned around and smiled at the bitch. She scowled at me and started chattering again.
"Ssst. I promise I won't screw it up." I said smiling. And I stepped behind her. I pulled one hair out and said. "That goes very easy."

Of course she started chattering again, but I told her she didn't need to panic. It would all turn out right in the end. So I started pulling out the bitch's hair. One by one. Later on in bunches, because it took a hell lot of a time. She screamed and cursed, but I petted on her shoulder. It would all be alright.

When I was done, it was bleeding a bit.
"Now, we don't want the meat to be unhygienic, do we? We've gotta clean it. Yes yes. Clean it."
She was still screaming and cursing. A bit out of breath, though. I didn't pay attention. I was too busy searching for the alcohol in the cupboard on the right.

"Found it!" I said, as I walked over to her with a piece of cloth and a little bottle with 98 alcohol. I drained the piece of cloth with the alcohol and started cleaning her plucked head.

And again she started screaming. I petted her on her shoulder and said it would all be alright.

I turned on some music. I like music.

I walked to the dresser, picked it up and read aloud: "Then, we're going to remove the bones."

I reached for a drawer, opened it and took out a carving-knife and a spoon. I walked over to the bitch, holding the book and the knife.

"First, you cut the flesh open," I said, while I lay the book down next to her on the ground.

"A bit inconvenient if I have to keep walking to the dresser, no?"
When I looked at her, I saw anger and loathing in her eyes and… fear? I smiled.
"Are you afraid of a Muggle, bitch?" I asked friendly, tilting my playfully to the side.

She shrieked she wasn't and called me things I couldn't understand because she was screaming so loudly when I stabbed the knife under her kneecap. Blood spattered in all directions. I like red.

She gasped strangely when I lifted the knife a bit, while taking it out; making sure the bone was lose enough to be taken out. When I had taken the knife out, wipe off some blood spatters and read on;

"Then you carefully take the bones out."

I stabbed the spoon into the cut, placed it under her kneecap and popped it out, while she apparently tried to sing along with the music, but she did it way too loud.

This wasn't enough. I wanted to remove more bones. So I made a cut in her beautiful tattoo and took out her radius. That one was pretty vast, so I had to cut some muscles and nerves.

She really can't sing.

"After that," I read aloud, "You take off all the unnecessary parts."

I took hold of the knife and checked her over a couple of times; deciding which parts were unnecessary. I didn't see the use of her auricle, so I made a little cut underneath her earlobe and, with one strong tug, pulled her ears off. I didn't find her front teeth useful anymore either, so I cut them out. Her whole front was covered in blood now. Hihi. Funny. The radio just played Chris de Burgh with Lady in Red.

I like that song.

When I had placed myself behind her and had chopped her fingers off, she fainted.

I decided to wait patiently for her to wake up. I didn't want her to miss a single bit of my lesson. So I petted her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear hole it would all be alright.

When she woke up, spitting out blood, anger and agony and breathing heavily, I read aloud: "Before we start with the real cooking, we make the chicken to our own taste."

I turned to the bitch again.

"I like barbeque meat!" I said cheerfully, a mad gleam spreading across my face as I went to get the flesh sticks. When I returned, I laughed because of the look of horror on her face.

"Where's the bitch now?" I asked, tilting my head playfully to the side. Then I sat down next to her and lay the flesh sticks next to me on the floor, keeping on in my hand.

I took hold of her ankle.

"This was Achilles' downfall. But I promise… it won't be yours. No no. Not yet."

And with those words, I pierced the flesh stick through her achilles. She didn't seem to like it very much and yelled again. It sounded like she was going crazy.

I had three flesh sticks left, so I pierced one through her wrist, one through her shoulder. That one was funny, because it came out of her armpit again. I can't recall if she screamed or if she laughed along with me, but she did make a hell of a noise.

I don't like her noise, so I pierced one through her tongue and jaw at the same time. Pushed it through it, until the hoop blocked it. She had to be able to close her mouth again. Or else she'll get a dry mouth. After that, I petted her on the shoulder and said it would all be alright.

"Spice it." I said hungrily, walking up to her with the salt in my right and the pepper in my left hand. I scattered it over the bitch's wounds. She didn't seem to like that very much. I guessed it wouldn't be so nice to look at, so I scattered some pepper in her eyes too. Was this the loudest screech? I can't recall.

"Now, we're going to bake it." I read as I stood up and walked to the dresser. "But! I can hardly drag you to the dresser and put you in a pan, now can I? That would be a bit silly, wouldn't it?"

I fired the stove and placed a pan on it. Loudly and happily singing with the music, I let a bit of oil and butter melt into the pan.

"As you can see, you have to melt some stuff or else the flesh will get stuck to the pan." I said as I picked the hissing pan of the fire and walked over to her. Without saying anything, I poured the hot oil over the bitch's bloody body. She screamed, twitched, squirmed and twisted, but I didn't say anything. It's dangerous to lose your concentration of hot stuff. Dangerous things could happen if you do. No no. We don't want any accidents.

When she only twitched a little and was only panted I petted her on the shoulder and said it would all be alright. That made the flesh stick go deeper in her shoulder, though. But I assured her it would all be alright.

I gasped.

"Oh no!" I said, turning to the bitch. "I over read a line! Here it is… Take out the organs. Silly me! Forgot to take out your organs!"

I hit my hand palm against my forehead in stupidity. When I looked at my refection in the shiny pan on the dresser, I burst out laughing, because I had given myself a red mark on my forehead with bitch's blood on my hand.

I couldn't stop laughing. Not even when I cut her side open and she screamed in agony when I pulled out something that didn't seem too vast connected to her body. I also laughed my head off when I pulled her eyes out and she squirmed in insufferable pain.

After that I made a cut at the right of her front. Then I petted her on the shoulder.

"Now it'll all be alright."

I smiled, dug my hand into her twitching body and pulled her heart out.

"It'll all be alright." I said laughing, gliding down the dresser, sitting down on the floor, her bloody heart in my hand.

"Now you don't need a house elf anymore."

And I smiled.