Regular Show Meat Your Maker Novels & Stories

He could do this all day, he thought, strolling his town with his girl. He opened the door into the butcher for her, and they inspected the display together. “Hi Cameron,” Dan Craddock, the butcher looked up from the chicken that he was crumbing with a smile. “What can I do for you today?” “The steak looks good, and some of those skewers that Rhett likes,” Cameron pointed to the tray. “We’ll grab some sausages, and the marinated chicken…” “Sure thing,” the butcher began to assemble the order. “Shocking news, eh?” He said over his shoulder as he wrapped the meat.

I drop my bag on an empty chair and lists on the next chair. "Don't you ever get tired of eating meat?!" I asked as I could only see meat and meat meat on the table. Meat everywhere, it making wanna puke! Which is a but strange cause I normally love meant, the fate that I'm a wolf or witch aside. "Baby we need meat to make our wolves stronger. "Well, I'm not a wolf, so I don't need any wolf to be stronger. He drops a buttered bread on my plate and add some veggies.

He continues asking, with a sweet and innocent tone of voice. “Um.” I looked to the side, thinking of the most convenient answer, and looked at him again. “Beef, bull meat. The kind they sell at the butcher shop. I promise I’ll get a good, fairly fresh portion, from an animal that hasn’t been dead long and is still dripping with blood.”

Is this his thing? Should I… leave them alone? My chest tightens. “Don’t just stand there! Come help me!” I jump when Baekhoon barks at me. Even though his Adam’s apple is barely visible, that deep voice of his still sounds ridiculously masculine. Dragging my feet, I walk over to him. There’s a pile of raw meat and enough vegetables to feed a village. How many people are we cooking for? “What are you even trying to make?” I asked.

We must look sickly lovey-dovey. I clear my throat and return to my plate. "So, this steak is delicious. Who made it?" Anna beams at me and taps her husband's shoulder. "In this house, Robin is the BBQ and meat master." "Oh, I see!" I try to keep the smile on my face, but damn it—if Robin makes food like this, I must take cooking classes. I can't serve Lynn crap food when she is used to such delicious treats. "It's perfectly made!" Robin grins. "Thank you—I serve only the best for my family!"

"Woow You look really good. I never thought I could make something this nice. I think I should open a shop in the market." "Yeah, and I will be there helping you out by attracting customers with my natural beauty." The two continued teasing each other until they were called outside for supper.

Tiffany laughed, “Uhmm, do you have tequila, we could start from there.” Roman frowned, “Tequila? You're not serious. You're not having tequila.” “Oh come on, that's what I ordered.” She said, still smiling. “Ok, but ma'am we don't have tequila, I can get you something else.” “Fine, get me anything which includes meatballs.” She nodded, with arched brows. “Alright ma'am, I'll be back in a jiffy.” Tiffany laughed, with that Roman left for the kitchen.

“Aren’t they all the same meat? What’s the difference between machine-made and hand-made?” Lady Wilson’s grumpy voice resonated loudly behind him, “What do you know, idiot! Go out there and ask any elderly you see. Everyone knows that home-made minced meat is the most delicious!”

"I think that's how everyone who's ever met you sees you." "Really?" Juke covered his heart with one large hand, the gesture mockingly dramatic. "That would hurt, if I gave two fucks. Lucky for me I don't. And if anyone in here is so bold as to spit in my food, I will sniff them out, and I promise you. They will be wearing it as an accessory before we leave this airport." The mental image was too much—a server walking around wearing four T-bone steaks like some kind of meat necklace. Dale's laughter bubbled up despite himself, and Juke joined in, the rich sound of their combined mirth drawing curious glances from nearby tables.

Then, they dropped by and visited a famous meat tavern for their late lunch. “I miss meat,” said Rana enthusiastically as she fried meats on the grill. She looked over the fire and waited for the meat to cook on top of the grill. Their flesh turning golden brown. The smoke and smell of the meat permeated the room. She could see the fat as they sizzled over the fire. Rana picked the chopsticks on her table and put the meat on her plate. “Enara, don’t hoard the meat to yourself,” Ethos said with a warning tone.