Today's Takeout Is a Bit Too Hot to Handle

On a stormy night, I received my final special delivery order.

The destination was an abandoned psychiatric sanatorium on the outskirts of the city.

The customer's note read: “Bring it to the third-floor morgue and give it to the woman in blue-and-white patient clothes.”

I called them crazy, but I had to risk it for a five-star review.

The morgue was empty, except for a corpse that had been chewed to pieces.

Suddenly, the iron door slammed shut behind me. A whisper came from the darkness:

“How nice. Today's dinner has arrived in two portions...”