The Darkest Course

The servers had finally finished arranging the dishes, and Blackwood took a deep breath, preparing himself for the explanation he knew he had to give. He gave a subtle nod, and the servers stepped back, revealing the main course. As the large dish was lifted, Lady's eyes widened in horror. On the plate, she saw something that made her blood run cold. It was a cooked torso, dressed in a low-cut gown that was eerily similar to the one she was wearing. The only difference was that it was headless, and the limbs were severed, placed artfully around the plate. Max's eyes scanned the room, his face twisted in disgust. "What kind of sick joke is this?" he demanded, his voice low and menacing. Blackwood cleared his throat, a forced smile spreading across his face. "Ah, I see you've noticed the... creative arrangement of the meal," he said, his tone smooth, but his eyes betraying a hint of nervousness. Lady's eyes were fixed on the plate, her mind reeling. She felt like she was going to be sick. "What is this?" she whispered, her voice trembling. Blackwood launched into an elaborate explanation, his words dripping with pretentiousness. "You see, I've always been an adventurous soul, and I've become fascinated with the art of molecular gastronomy. I've been experimenting with new techniques, pushing the boundaries of culinary innovation." He gestured to the dish, his hands moving with a flourish. "This, my friends, is a masterpiece. The dish is called 'Deconstructed Identity.' It's a commentary on the fragility of human existence, the impermanence of form and identity." Max snorted, his expression incredulous. "You expect us to believe that this... this abomination is some kind of artistic statement?" Blackwood's smile never wavered. "I assure you, it's a bold statement, one that challenges the diner to confront the darker aspects of human nature. The severed limbs, the headless torso... it's all a metaphor for the disintegration of the self." Lady's eyes were still fixed on the plate, her mind numb. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was as if Blackwood had taken her own body and turned it into a twisted work of art. The room fell silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of the three people seated at the table. Blackwood's explanation hung in the air, a thinly veiled attempt to justify the grotesque display before them. As the silence stretched out, Lady finally found her voice. "Get it away," she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. "Take it away."