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Hard Boiled Chicken Detective

Content Warning: Contains (in no particular order,) a handjob, getting stuffed on fried rice, stripping a body, a spiked drink leading to paralysis, a probably fumbled depiction of polyamory, beheading, a late night dinner date, F/M vore, hard vore, cooking vore, and a lengthy detective POV sequence.

November 30th, 20XX.

The case began like most of them do, with a call to my cell phone, and me answering with my stock and well-worn greetings; "Restless Roost P.I., Detective Gordon Roost at your service."

"I'm Adelphie Anderson, and I need you to find some people for me." Adelphie said on the other end, her voice was young, but very distressed.

Only a sentence in and already I wasn't liking this case; our humble city is up on the top 10 with the most missing persons cases, most of which are unresolved. And, once in a thousands of cases, the resolution is that they got butchered and illegally sold off as non-sapient meat. Rare as it is, seeing such a scene in a black market butcher shop just sticks with you. Stuff like that has made many cadets swear off meat entirely; I myself still have stomach troubles whenever I see certain food mascots.

Still, I didn't want to throw out any case just because of a few bad outcomes, especially not without hearing as much as I can out of it first. "Don't worry, who am I looking for?"

"My brother Randy, who's a dog, and his wife Weslie, who's a cat." she responded, "They haven't been responding to any of our families' calls, emails, anything! We didn't think much of it at first, but then Thanksgiving came and went without them coming over."

"Is there any reason why they wouldn't want to come over or even cut off entirely? Political differences, life choices-"

"No, nothing like that!" she replied quickly, "Both my family and my sister-in-law's family seemed perfectly happy over their marriage."

"And how do you know that your brother and sister-in-law aren't visiting her side of the family this year?"

"Because we called them, but they haven't heard from them either. They've told me that normally Weslie would be constantly interacting with them over social media until about a month ago."

"So why come to Restless Roost P.I.? Shouldn't you have filed some missing persons with the police?"

"We did, but they couldn't find anything!"

I bit my feathers in thought, "Listen, I'm not one to turn down a case, but I don't like sugar-coating it either, because it sounds like it's pretty cold. I can still take a look at it, spend a couple of days scrounging for details, but don't expect miracles out of me."

After a pause, she replied back to me, "I understand. It's just that... I need some closure. To have them constantly in my life and then just suddenly vanish without a trace terrifies me."

I'm still not sure if she completely understood how much of a longshot this was, or if I'd even be able to give her any kind of closure at all. I wanted to make it clear in my own way that I didn't want to take advantage of the poor girl by dragging it all out, but me doing investigations for free won't pay the bills either. Just a week's worth of work, see if there is a loose thread that the police had glossed over.

After we had settled on the payment, I started my investigations with Randy and Weslie's social media pages. It was just as Adelphie had said, Weslie was the most active on social media, then both suddenly went silent. Their last post was a picture posted back in early September, of them sharing a kiss titled "1st Wedding Anniversary." Would be sweet in any other circumstance, right now it's only showing how sudden and abruptly the young couple vanished. At the very least, I had a better idea of when they actually disappeared.

I checked in with some old friends in the police, learning from them that they had checked over the apartment that the couple were living in a few weeks ago. Apparently the landlord was completely clueless about the couple going missing until the police came knocking. When pressed, he told them that he didn't think there was anything wrong as the couple had their payments sent automatically, and didn't have or cause much issues with their neighbors. They then had checked the apartment itself, but found no signs of break ins or struggle.

After that, I went to visit the apartment complex and its landlord, Byron. He was a very anxious squirrel, snapping at me well before I asked about the couple's disappearance; "I already told the police, I already told everyone else, I don't know! One week I thought they were having a lovely anniversary in whatever honeymoon they had, and the next I have nearly every tenant wildly asking me what's going on, throwing out baseless rumors about some murder or kidnapping or some other foul play!"

"A young adult couple, who were still only renting and still saving money to own their own home, had been presumably gone on vacation for at least a month, and you didn't think something was odd?"

"I just said that ain't nobody thought anything was odd!" he howled at me, "Everybody was just minding their own businesses, and at the first sign of their middle-class life is not their perfect ideal that they've dreamed up, they start pointing fingers and jumping at each other's throats!"

"Can I visit the apartment that they were renting, or did you already clean it out for a new tenant?"

"I'm too busy trying to stop hemorrhaging the tenants that I still have to clean up over there! A lot of them have been packing up and leaving, and then telling potential tenants not to rent here, like it's a shot-up meth lab!" he shouted as he got his keys.

He led me through the stairs and hallways to the apartment, and I noticed a few people peeking out of their doors to watch me, especially as we got closer to the apartment in question. I almost tripped on the pile of mail when we walked inside, no doubt there were pink slips from their respective workplaces when they failed to show up in weeks. Otherwise it wasn't too special of an apartment, just a living space that melded the kitchen and living room together, a door to the bathroom on one end and a door to the bedroom at the other, and sliding glass doors that opened to the balcony.

Almost everything had a layer of dust to it, just as the police said. However, I noticed that the floor itself had a much thinner layer; I was expecting to at least see some footprints from the officers when they looked inside, but didn't see any. The floor must have been immaculate when they looked at it. I took out my phone to take pictures of what I saw, the landlord watching me to make sure I didn't take anything from the apartment.

Neither the door to the apartment nor the bedroom had any noticeable damage, no signs either on the doorframes. The glass doors were still latched from the inside apartment, and were unbroken. With this I started to suspect that perhaps the couple hadn't been snatched out of their apartment at all, or if they were, they probably trusted their kidnapper and went along with them peacefully (if there was even a kidnapper at all.)

I noticed that while the digital clock near the flatscreen tv was accurate, the oven still was an hour forward, as the oven clock had to be set manually while the digital clock constantly updates and checks itself online. I looked in the bedroom to check if the couple weren't simply lazy about keeping their oven clock accurate, and they had a simple battery operated clock from the dollar store on their nightstand which was also an hour forward. From that, I can assume they haven't been here since the first week of November, or even earlier than that.

On a whim, I opened up the refrigerator, expecting it to be full of some expired foods since the couple had been gone for two whole months. To my surprise however, it was completely empty, as was the freezer. The police hadn't mentioned anything about this, but it was a sure sign in my mind that something was going on. The couple wasn't so hurting on money to have the refrigerator constantly empty after all, though it's possible that someone came around quietly stealing before or after the police had investigated. In hindsight, the bedroom was also a bit messy as well, it's possible it had some things stolen from it as well. "Did anybody else have the keys to the apartment?" I asked.

"Only me and the respective tenants have a key to their apartment."

This was about as bad as I had feared; my trail was still cold, and all I had was basically just a repeat of what the police had already told Adelphie. But then out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed the calendar on the refrigerator. It hadn't been changed since September, and there's a circled date that said "1st Anniversary, Wet Dog 7pm," while the days leading up to it were crossed out. It matched up with the date of their little anniversary photo they posted, now I knew where they went for dinner. It... Well, it made it easier and a little more complicated at the same time, but more on that later.

As we left the apartment, an owl stepped out of hers and stopped us, "Are you with the police?!" she asked me.

"Just a private investigator, madame." I replied.

Byron was already tired of her, "Harriet, don't harass people with your crazy theories..."

I didn't even get the chance to ask when Harriet started blurting it all out, "Oh hush you, detectives could use all the evidence they can get! Now I know who's responsible for where the Andersons went! A female ostrich with short black hair!"

"...So?" I pressed.

"There aren't any ostriches renting around here!"

"...I'm afraid I don't completely follow, what exactly made her so suspicious?"

"Well, besides not renting around here, I saw that she has been in and out of that apartment several times before the police came around."

"Saw the ostrich?!" yelled another tenant, a slightly graying turtle who I would learn later is named Terrance. "Harriet, you were yakking it up with her like she was an old friend!" he said as he walked up to us.

"Err... I suppose that's true... She was rather friendly at the time..." Harriet mumbled out, her blush vivid enough to be seen through her face feathers. "But no one has seen her since October..."

Terrance rolled his eyes, "That's because she said she was apartment-sitting for them while they were on vacation!"

"Yeah, I've gotten a text from the Andersons the day after their anniversary that they gave their key to her so she could get in." Byron added. "She mailed it back after a month or so, so that the Andersons would pick it up when they got back."

"So do you know where she lives? Any contacts?" I asked. All I heard was awkward humming and shrugging. "...Does she have a name?"

"Um, I think she said her name was Trixie? Or was it Tilda?" said Harriet. "I know she had short black hair, and wore tight jeans and sweaters. It really showed off how 'voluptuous' she was."

"She was indeed not unattractive." Terrance added.

Harriet excitedly babbled on, "Oh, also! Randy and Weslie owned their own cars, because they both work, right? One was a cute mint-green hatchback, and the other was a silver old sports car. It was a real James Bond looking one, Randy told me once that he and his father worked on it together. Now they always parked themselves on the closest side to their apartments. At first, only the hatchback went missing, but after I last saw the ostrich, I saw that the sports car went missing too!"

"Are there any security cameras around here?" I asked Byron.

"Of course, there's some looking down every hallway and over the parking lot. I suppose you're gonna ask for the footage."

"It wouldn't hurt. I'll need footage from September onward."

He snorted, "Fine. The police already got a copy, but they didn't tell me anything of value. If you ask me, you're on a wild goose chase."

Avian semantics aside, I privately agreed. There was a good chance that I was wasting my time chasing after a suspect who probably was never involved, but at the very least it sounded like she knew the Andersons before they disappeared. After getting the contact information from everyone for future questioning, I set out for the Wet Dog Bar.

Now, it just so happens that the Wet Dog Bar is run by my girlfriend, Briana, a big and beautiful pug. We met a while back, we've been steady since. Which was great, all things considered, her having lost her husband just a few months prior, and me wading into this polyamory thing blind. It really was the first subjects we had discussed on the first date, mostly that if I wasn't 100% comfortable knowing that she's in a relationship with other people, I'm welcome to leave while we're still on friendly terms. The flip side of that coin, she didn't want to pressure me into sharing myself with other people, whether they are in Briana's little circle of partners or not. In other words, she might be my cherry pie, but there's other people at the table who're entitled to their own slices.

Honestly that's what I like most about her, the frankness and honesty. My last relationship disintegrated because we weren't communicating with each other enough, especially when our time together was irregular, so having someone who would let me know what's on her mind ASAP was a welcome change.

When I entered, Briana was tending the bar, busy drying off a glass while she made small talk with the patrons. "Hey beautiful, got anything sweet?" I said after I sat down.

She turned around, pleasantly surprised to see me. "Well, well, well, aren't you early." Briana said, coming over to lean on the bar counter in front of me.

"Well unfortunately, I'm not here for that." I shook my head, "I'm looking for some people, supposedly they came around here before they went missing back in September."

"Really? That long ago? Don't remember anything odd happening, I'd have to look at the camera footage." Briana said.

"I was worried about that. Just to be safe, I'll need footage from the whole month."

As I watched Briana walk back to her office, an ostrich crooned at me from the seat next to me, "Well Briana looked real friendly with you, handsome. I was half-expecting her to make out with you on the spot."

"Maybe later." I smiled, "I'm her boyfriend, Gordon Roost."

"Oooh, I see, you must be the detective she told me about lately. I'm Linda Tritz by the way. Her regular, in more ways than one~"

Briana had told me about Linda before on our dates: been together since college freshmen, and even after they had married to their husbands, they still have sex with each other. It's half the reason why Linda comes over to the bar, and the other is because she was also an absolute flirt, a real man (and woman) eater looking for another one-night stand. Only Linda's late husband could match her sexual appetite, they used to come in as a pair daring to hook up and swing with other couples.

However, something about her rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was the way she dressed, or the way she swayed, slightly tipsy, just overall was too flirtatious for my tastes. Or maybe I was thinking too much about the ostrich Harriet claimed to have seen.

"So what kind of a case are you looking at right now, Mr. Roost? Cheating spouse? Robbery? Dare I say, murder?"

"Ain't ever done a case as dramatic as a murder. It's never as glamorous as any novels or movies make it out to be. For one, a lot less 'femme fatales' walk into my office... or anyone really, a lotta days I only get cases over my phone. Really I just have an office to keep everything organized and get into a crime-solving mindset."

"Mmm, sounds like we should arrange for Briana or I to come over with our own 'case files' that need a thorough 'private investigation'~" Sheesh, I've dealt with sex workers who aren't as forward and more subtle. Thankfully I was saved from her advances by Briana coughing out loud as she returned to hand me the USB drive. "What? I said you or I. I've let you borrow Roger sometimes, didn't I?" Linda replied, almost whining to Briana.

"And he'll share himself with whomever he wants, dear. You don't have to smother him to death with innuendos." Briana responded firmly.

Linda rolled her eyes at Briana, "Fiiine."

"Actually, I think you can help me out with this case right now. You're a regular here right?" I said as I pulled out my phone and pulled up a picture of the couple and showed it to Briana and Linda, "Do you recognize either of these people?"

I watched their reactions as they studied the picture. Linda stroked her beak in thought as she squinted at the picture, shooting a glance at Briana. Briana on the other hand scratched the back of her head, her eyes darting between the phone and Linda.

Linda spoke up first, "Yes, I think I've seen them before. They look cute enough. What's the matter, they owe money? One of them hasn't been faithful?"

"They just got up and went missing, told nobody, not their bosses, not their landlord, not their family."

"Well, wish I'd be able to help, but all I know is that they ate here one night. Like I said, they were a cute couple, still in that puppy and kitten phase of gushing to each other."

"Not to your tastes?"

"Oh honey, I have a taste for just about everyone, but I don't have to be a detective to recognize that they only had eyes for each other." said Linda. Briana loudly snorted, likely to suppress her belly laugh. Linda shot a quick dirty glare at her direction before just as quickly turning back to me with an overly sweet smile and said, "I mean no offense, Detective."

"None taken." I nodded, "Thank you for your time ladies. Know anyone else that might help?"

Briana shook her head, "Not off the top of my head, could just sit here and ask everyone that comes by. Though if you ask me, most of them probably couldn't tell you what they had for breakfast. The servers might remember something though."

"Yeah that figures. Getting back to my office is probably a better use of my time anyway. Are we still on for after closing?"

"Of course we are, love! I'll be sure Linda gets home before then!"

"Rude!" Linda over-pronounced as she lightly slapped Briana's arm, "Don't act like I can't take no for an answer!"

I asked the staff as well, but as was expected, I got nothing. It was too long ago on what seemed to be just another night at the bar, so no one really paid much mind to what was happening or who the Andersons might have left with.

However, as I was collecting my thoughts in my car, my eyes drifted down the street, and I saw a silver sports car parked in front of a house. Not sure if I would call it something that James Bond would drive around, but it was certainly an old beauty nonetheless. I took some pictures of it anyway, if only to ease my mind.

After getting into the office, I had just about booted up my desktop and put in the USB drive when I got another phone call. "Restless Roost P.I., Detective Gordon Roost at your service."

"Mr. Detective," said a very gruff voice of someone trying too hard to hide their voice, "I have a tip about the young couple you're looking for. I apologize for not being able to tell you face to face while you were in the bar, but I had to hide as the perpetrators were too close by."

"So you know who kidnapped them then?"

"If only it was a kidnapping, Detective. I believe that they have been murdered and devoured by Linda Tritz. Briana, the owner, has been covering for her and even helping her pick out her one night meals."

Wow, what a wild and unfortunate accusation. The only way this tipper could have picked a worse person to come toward was if I was Briana or Linda. Though now that I think about it, it wouldn't surprise me that Briana doesn't speak about her own personal life while at work. "How am I supposed to trust you? You're saying some serious things about people, none of it should be joked around."

"Any video files Briana gave you will be worthless, because she completely corrupted it before she gave it to you. And it won't just be the day the Andersons last went to the bar either, there'll be a number of days where Linda or their friends have picked someone up, only for those people to never be seen again. For example, try the 13th of that month."

I tried opening the Andersons' date and the other date that the tipper gave me, but as they said, I got an error message that both were corrupted and wouldn't open. I got up to see if there was anyone watching me from the streets below or the office windows across from me, but I didn't see anyone at all.

I must have been quiet for too long, as the Jigsaw impressionist spoke up again, "Well?"

"Alright pal, who and where are you?" I asked.

Before they replied, I heard a door open on the their end of the line, someone with heels came walking in. While the door was open, I could barely hear Briana calling out in the background, "Mary, table 6 needs a refill on drinks." Was the tipper a server or a regular there?

"We can meet up in Lakeside Park! The picnic tables closest to the playground on the hill have the best view too! 3 o'clock in the afternoon, alright?" said a cheerful young adult woman.

"What-"

"Sorry, I gotta go soon, but did you get all that, cutie?"

The sudden act change had caught me off guard, but I managed to roll with it, "Yeah, right, Lakeside Park at 3. See you then."

"Bye~" And with that they disconnected.

With that business dealt with, I opened up my business email and got the security video files from Byron. Once unzipped though, the videos were in a bit of a disorganized mess with the automated file naming. I wasted most of the evening figuring out which footage belonged to which cameras. I'd miss my date by a week if I tried to comb through every file for the appearance of the supposed ostrich suspect, so instead I started with the last time the Andersons left the apartment. Following them along the footage was easy enough, mostly seen in the hallway camera then out the east side of the apartment complex, where they got into the green hatchback and left.

The silver sports car that was parked next to the hatchback looked extremely familiar though. I pulled up the photos I took of the sports car I had seen earlier, and surprisingly they were the same, or at least the same make, model, and color. The license plate was different at a glance though, so at first I put it out of my mind and resumed reviewing the footage.

Only two days after the Andersons left did the ostrich start coming in. She did fit how the tenants had described her. Come to think of it, her body was similar to Linda's body shape, except this ostrich had a large pot belly that stretched out the sweater. Anyway, the ostrich would come with a couple of empty bags into the apartment complex, going straight for Anderson's apartment. This "apartment sitting" would repeat a few times each week over the course of October, sometimes chatting with a neighboring tenant (Terrance was not kidding about Harriet blabbering on and on with the ostrich, they'd go for an hour at least.) This stopped at the start of November, with the police showing up a few weeks later.

I noticed that the first time when the ostrich came by, she didn't actually park at the apartment parking area, at least not within camera view. However, when she left a few hours later, she used the silver car that Randy had used. After about a week and a half she had first started her "apartment sitting," the car had a different license plate.

With the fuzzy quality of a security camera, getting a VIN was impossible. (Yes I have seen CSI, and no I cannot just "enhance the image." God do I hate what that show has done for investigations.) Thankfully, both license plates were still readable, so I was able to look up the cars' historys anyway. Or rather, the same car. I was wondering if the Andersons gave the car to the ostrich, but what I wasn't expecting was finding that it was Linda Tritz who had bought it up and gave it a new plate. Startled by this, I looked back at the photos that I had taken of the sports car. Sure enough, the license plate all matched up with the ostrich's new plate number in the security footage and the new plate number by Linda.

I'd like to think I'm able to give people the benefit of doubt, but it seemed extremely suspicious that Linda claimed to have little to no interaction with the Andersons, only to end up with their family car. However, trying to tie her back to the Andersons' disappearances was too circumstantial at this point. At best I could prove petty thefts, but that was it. It could be that the ostrich in the security videos was actually Linda's sister or cousin and the Andersons' had disappeared elsewhere. But even then it seems I still have to ask Linda some more questions.

And all that is before thinking about what the anonymous tipper said. Obviously it adds more fuel to the idea that Linda was involved, but that also implicates Briana. I'm probably too emotionally close to her, but it still didn't make sense with how busy she was managing the Wet Dog. And yet the fact that the tipper was likely a server at the bar on that fateful night and knew the video files would be corrupted... And thinking about how long it must have been going for them to notice a pattern of disappearances... That Linda and Briana, or anyone for that matter, were luring people to eat them made my stomach churn.

I had to get a glass of cold water to drink and cool my head. I considered calling my date off. But you can't let paranoia control you and lead you astray, that's how you get innocent people imprisoned or killed. Besides, the tipper could just be lying, trying to frame someone else for their own crimes.

Either way, getting to the bottom of this would have to wait for tomorrow, I have a date.

---

It was late at night at Briana's house. Gordon and Briana had found that neither of them were morning people, working most of the afternoon and evening, so they often have a midnight dinner date. They didn't mind the late hours, just talking about what went on during their days, or simply enjoying the quiet of the night together.

"One of these nights, I oughta treat you to my home cooked meals." Gordon quipped as he gathered the plates and silverware. "If only so that you don't have to cook all day for work only to cook dinner for me."

"I appreciate the thought dear, but you gotta let the master chef do their work." Briana said as she stirred some soy sauce into the fried rice, "Besides, I usually only need to tend to the bar at work. I don't think you've told me about your cooking skills though."

"No I haven't, but can't improve if you don't try. Besides, can't fault a guy for wanting to treat his woman with his own hard work, right?" Gordon leaned towards Briana.

"No I can't." Briana said as she gave Gordon a quick smooch on his beak.

As Gordon set the table, he called back to Briana, "Hey, you said that Linda lives down the street from here, right?"

Briana chuckled, "What, you're actually interested in her? I thought she came off a little too strong for you."

Gordon chuckled as well, "Well you're not wrong. I was just wondering because I think her car, the old silver sports car, caught my eye. Do you remember when she got that?"

He couldn't see it, but Briana tensed up. She quietly fetched an eye drop bottle filled with a purple liquid from the top cabinet as she replied, "Hmm... No, not sure when she got that. Why, interested in old cars now?"

"Kind of. Remember the missing couple I showed you earlier? Their cars went missing, so I was wondering if they had gotten sold off."

"So you think Linda might have bought a stolen car?" Briana said, reaching into the pantry to take out a Pinot Noir. She poured the wine into glasses, along with several drops of the purple liquid into one of the glasses, and carried them to the table.

"Might have. At the very least find out which dealership and ask around there."

"Well I hope you weren't planning on doing too much work for that case in the morning." Briana said as she handed the spiked glass to Gordon.

"Oh no dear, I'm well prepared to only wake up at noon." Gordon said as he sat down at his spot.

Briana softly giggled as she carried the fried rice to the table and sat down, "Glad we're on the same page." She raised her glass, "To us?"

"To us." Gordon responded, and the two of them drank. "Mmmph, does this wine taste funny to you? It has this awful aftertaste..." Gordon gagged.

Briana took another sip of her wine. "No, tastes fine to me."

Gordon shook his head from distaste. "Maybe I'm not a wine guy." He half-muttered, though he felt his cheeks were a little numb. As he ate his plate of fried rice, his eyes drifted to Briana's plate. "You barely touched your plate. Not hungry?"

Briana shrugged, still having that unreadable smile. "Not quite, I didn't want to spoil my appetite for later. You keep eating, it sounds like you had a lot of research today."

Gordon was confused, he didn't see Briana prepare anything else in the kitchen, but he did accidentally skip out supper while sorting through the Apartment Security videos. He drained the rest of his wine, figuring that the aftertaste wouldn't bother him as much in one go, but it still tasted awful.

"I don't... guh... oood..." Gordon gagged and slurred his words, his beak going numb. That numb feeling spread from the torso to the limbs, making them feel heavy and unresponsive. Even the basic functions of breathing and blinking felt laborious. His head felt heavy and his vision spinning, he almost fell off the chair when Briana caught him and sat him up with his head leaning back. Gordon tried to ask what was going on, but all that came out was a long groaning sigh.

"Oh just as I thought, all that detective work wore you out." Briana said as she looked over him. "Here, you didn't finish your plate." she said as she opened his mouth and started to shovel the remaining rice down his throat. Gordon could only swallow it down, any gag reflex was suppressed. With Gordon's plate cleaned off, Briana took her plate as she said "Look at you, you're still famished, have my plate."

Gordon tried to resist, his mind desperately trying to get any form of movement out of his limbs, but he couldn't even lift a finger to stop Briana from stuffing him to the beak with rice. Once in a while the rice piled up too quickly for his weak throat to push down, so she would stop to stimulate his throat to swallow the rice and resume stuffing him.

Just as he thought it was over, Briana cheerfully spoke up, "Here, have my wine. I'm sure it tastes better without the sedative in it." The wine flowed freely down his throat. "You were really thirsty, I bet you'd drink the whole bottle if I let you... Mmm, sure, let's make you marinated." She put the bottle to his beak and tipped it up, letting it drain completely.

Once the bottle was emptied, she walked off to the kitchen, and Gordon was left staring up at the ceiling. He could still hear, and he heard the sounds of Briana in the kitchen preparing something; of things on the counter being moved around to make room for a large board, a large pot was taken out of the bottom cabinets and filled with water. Eventually Briana returned and carried him to the kitchen. She laid him out on the largest cutting board Gordon had ever seen, which had a trench with a subtle tilt towards an opening on the end that was over the trash can.

Briana went about stripping Gordon, taking off his belt and unbuttoning his shirt. She sat him up to take his shirt and undershirt off and laid him back down. However, his pants were a bit tight, so she took the kitchen shears and cut along the seams before she pulled them off. She simply cut the elastic band of the boxers before pulling them off his legs along with his shoes and socks, and threw them away with the pants scraps.

With Gordon completely naked, Briana picked him up again, sighing, "You're a good man, Gordon. I wish I could... acclimate you to my lifestyle, but with your distaste for meat, and investigating one of my closest friends and partner, this was bound to happen one way or another. Though, I'm not sad it's ending like this, just it being so soon. At least you look as tasty as my last husband." With that, she slowly slid him headfirst into the pot of water.

He could barely feel the scalding hot water, even as he was submerged completely and it started to burn his skin. Gordon couldn't hold his breath, but with the drug dulling his senses, he didn't even stir either as water filled his lungs. Meanwhile Briana slowly stirred him in the pot, gripping him by the feet with tongs.

The lack of panicking probably prolonged his life, though that would be a cruel mercy once Briana pulled him out after a little over half a minute of stirring. She then laid him out again on the oversized cutting board on the kitchen counter, this time with his head hanging over the trash can. Briana gently pressed on Gordon's head and water dribbled out of his slack open beak.

Gordon was still paralyzed, gaze clouded and unfocused and damaged from the scalding water, and his head still felt heavy like a bowling ball, so he couldn't see just what Briana was doing. He can barely feel her clawed fingers digging deep to his skin, massaging his head and neck, pulling out his rich brown feathers and then tossing them into the trash. Soon he felt the cold air of the kitchen on his now bald head and bare neck. He tried again to speak, to simply ask why, but all that came out was a whispery and ragged sigh.

"Oh, are you still alive? I guess you deserve a send-off after all." Briana said, as she leaned over his head and started to kiss him as she reached down to his cock and started stroking it. It would take a bit for the dick to react to the handjob, but it was eventually coaxed to it's full and exposed length. In the meantime, Briana's kisses were getting slobbier as her tongue washed and tasted all over Gordon's head. After it had been thoroughly covered with her spit, Briana opened wide and started swallowing his head whole.

It felt slightly strange to be feeling the warm and humid breath all around his head. Not that he could do anything about it other than gawp, stare, and listen to her kisses and gulping reverberate around him. Her lips had been wrapping around and pulling along his neck, her tongue lapping and tasting every inch of his exposed skin. As if breathing wasn't hard enough, he could feel the thick spit slowly drip into his open beak and nostrils. The peril of being drugged to paralysis and scalded alive aside, this felt weirdly nice, though that might be the hormones from the stimulation of his dick finally rousing him past the thick blanket of numbness. It did however make him breathe in more, inhaling more of the thick saliva, which drowned him as he was unable to exhale hard enough to spit it out.

Briana's lips sealed around the collarbone with a final kiss, before she bit down hard, snapping bones and severing flesh, beheading Gordon. Briana stood up, letting the blood drain out of Gordon's carcass and out of her mouth before she swallowed his head and neck. His body had subtly spasmed at the sudden head loss, while the last conscious thoughts of his head had wondered what that horrible snapping sound was as he slid down into the stomach. His dick was starting to soften as his body shut down, but not before it had shot a load over her hand and wrist. Briana licked off the cum, taking a moment to admire Gordon's slightly fatty corpse.

She set about defeathering the rest of his body, massaging and pulling the feathers out from his legs up. Once his whole body was truly baring all, Briana took a knife and cut at the knees, easily cutting through the cartilage and separating the joint. She saved the calves and feet, putting them in a big jar and would put them in a discreet place in her storage for later.

Briana lifted Gordon's dead body one more time, and put it into the pot of hot water again. She raised the temperature to boil, and added some of the spices left over from the fried rice. She retrieved some carrots and onions, cutting and stirred each into the soup. "Mmm, oh honey, don't you look absolutely handsome now." Briana said, her mouth watering as she watched Gordon's body boil as she stirred the bubbling water. "Good thing I have the day off tomorrow, because you're going to keep me up all night long~"

---

Linda chuckled as she read the case file on Roost's computer. The poor boy was so close and yet so far from discovering the truth. Still, it was best for her and everyone around her tied up some threads so their hedonistic lifestyle wouldn't be exposed. Besides, Linda could live comfortably with the ill-gotten gains she stole from her meals' accounts, it did leave her quite bored, so playing secretary was a nice change of pace from sitting at home or even the occasional looking for one-night stands at the Wet Dog.

The blouse did feel uncomfortable around her chest though, she idly mused she might launch a button or two if she inhaled too hard. She hadn't worn this particular blouse in years, both owing to the fact that she hardly needed to work, and that her bust had grown considerably larger from her unique diet. Jogging every day could only do so much about the extra several tens of thousands of calories that an adult body contained. Linda had considered simply having it unbuttoned, it wasn't like she was interning in a public building again, but she was still expecting someone to come in, and it was an utter bitch to put it on in the first place that she didn't want to repeat with someone knocking at the door.

Thoughts of eating people had caused her stomach to growl in hunger, despite draining a bowl of soup barely a minute ago. Linda appreciated that Briana was kind enough to share even this much of her boyfriend noodle soup, even though Linda's gluttony would only be sated if she had a whole pot of the stuff. She chided herself for thinking so hard about it, she'd scare her food away if they saw her drooling at them all the time, and there was still much to read from Gordon's case files.

The sound of knocking at the door stirred Linda out of her day dreams. "Come in dear, the door's unlocked~" she called out.

A golden retriever poked her head into the room. "Is this Restless Roost P.I.?" she asked.

"Yes it is! How can I help you?" Linda smiled as she stood up. She already had a very good idea who the dog was, she looked similar enough to Randy and had seen her on the couple's phones before.

"I'm Adelphie, I had received a text about you having information about my missing brother and his wife?"

"Ah yes, I'm Linda Tritz. Just hang your coat and bag on the rack over there and sit here in front of the desk." Linda said as she walked towards the door. As Adelphie hung up her coat, Linda looked around the halls and found them empty. She subconsciously licked her beak as she closed the door and locked the bolt.

About time her lunch had arrived, Linda was starving.