prompt "crazy town" 
“It’s 12:15 am, and I’m starved. I better hit the market before everyone goes home.”
Alex puts on his black leather gloves and coat and heads out.
“Tonight, I’ll take the scenic route to burn a few extra calories before I eat.”
Twenty minutes later, he arrives at the market. He spots his feats ten feet away—a succulent slab of protein. Then panic sets in; it overwhelms him. “How will I cook this? Do I eat it raw? Do I save the rest for later? Help me, what do I do?”
Sweat poured down his forehead, and confusion set in. He didn’t know what to do. Then, after a second, calmness overcame. He made his decision, “I’ll devour part of it now to lessen the load. The rest I’ll take home to cook.”
He approached the beautiful prize with a tear in his eye. Never did he see such a remarkable specimen. He reached out and grabbed the man next to the Crazy Town sign. Like lightning, he ripped out his jugular. One bite, the artery severed. Blood streamed like a firehouse. “It’s payday; I have outdone myself tonight!”
He dropped beside his kill and ate and drank the spoils. “Nothing as good as fresh blood to wash down it all down.”
Under the moon light Alex prepared his spoils for the trek home. He slung the body over his shoulder and sprinted 5 miles home. He thought to himself, “I’ll create a few weekly dishes. I promised Karen a fabulous meal with authentic meat and not the fake synthetic crap Gates and Bezos pushes.”
Once home, he processed the remains. His famous Sloppy Joe served on rye ready for tomorrow's night dinner. For Tuesday, barbecue ribs with clover.
He knows Karen will love both.
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