The Grater

Chad’s stomach growled. He knew the only way he could satisfy this new hunger was with nachos, as he had done so many times in the past. Each nacho was a piece of the hunger puzzle in his stomach, and the pieces always lined up perfectly.

While his ingredients would vary, one thing about the process remained the same: the cheese grater his aunt Broomhilda gave him on her death bed. “With every grate,” she whispered, “you become so much greater.” And then she died, leaving a young Chad alone in the hospital, clutching the cheese grater that’s been in the family for months. Ever since, Chad has made it his mission to use his aunt’s grater during every cheese related endeavor. It was more than a piece of metal; it was a piece of her. In fact, sometimes when he shredded the cheese, he could hear his aunt talking to him.

“I’m proud of you.”

Shred.

“Make sure the oven is on at 365 degrees.”

Shred.

And so today, like so many days before, Chad set out to prepare nachos. He had such rhythm. Da Vinci himself would shed a tear at Chad’s nacho cuisine; which makes this all the more tragic. The chips were on the pan, the oven was set, and the jalapenos and peppers were cut. All that was left to do was grate the cheese. But that’s where it all went wrong.

See, while Chad is used to his aunt communicating through the cheese grater, he’s only used to positive reinforcement. So today, when she yelled “I’ve had gorgonzola stronger than you”, Chad reacted to it the only way he knew how.

By screaming until his temple blew out and shredding away his entire face. He was used to being called effeminate by his peers, but it’s entirely different when it’s your deceased aunt communicating through a cheese grater. It’s still debated whether it was her harsh words or his developing schizophrenia that caused the scene. We may never know.

Fueled by his rage and his knowledge that he will never be able to enjoy those sweet, sweet nachos the same way ever again, he decided to take vengeance on his aunt. When he remembered that she was dead, he decided to take vengeance on the world instead.

His face barely clinging together, and his unquenchable bloodlust only becoming less quenchable, he nailed the cheese grater to his right arm, and walked out of his house to his neighbor’s.

Maybe if they saw his leper-like appearance through the peep-hole they wouldn’t have let him in. Unfortunately for the Millers, they didn’t check before opening the door. Upon entering, Chad grated them to death, chanting “I will shred you limb from limburger.”

Chad’s whereabouts are unknown. It’s said that he’s still wandering, passing through towns, knocking politely on doors and then grating people’s faces away. Some say he sprinkles remnants of his victim’s flesh on nachos. Others say he only makes a bad cheese pun and then leaves. But there are only sometimes survivors.

So to the public, I say stay in groups. Cheese grating someone to death takes a shit load of time, and frankly, you will have ample opportunity to run away if he’s focusing on someone else. But know this; if you are lucky enough to escape one of his attacks, he will try to find you. And he will brie back.