/jp/ - Otaku Culture

>Be chef in Monstergirl City
"Oy, there's this little tot here who thinks you can't make some ugh... 'stretchy anime meat'? The fuck does that even mean?"
>Look outside, it's a buxom Wendigo 'awarara'ing agitatedly, her companions already either eating a parfait in the case of the Yeti or eating a now-frozen fish paté from her Yuki-Onna friend
>Feel a fire light up inside your gut
>Those breasts, that ARA ARA, but most of all, that ABSURD REQUEST
>WHO ARE YOU TO DENY A LOVELY SPECIMEN HER DESIRE?
>Take out a burdock root, notching it and shaving the damned thing like a man possessed
>Your Ignis partner is going 'hoo boy' when she sees you working rapidly
>Mixing milk, onions, ground beef and pork, nutmeg and pepper together like an artist would take his brush to the canvas
>Wrap the meat around it, sculpting it like the shank of meat you remember from JRPGs and anime
>Wendigo confusedly 'ara-awas' when she sees you working, wrapping sliced beef around the molded shape
>Put it on the skillet after powdering it with a bit of bread crumbs to remind her of home in [REDACTED]
>Her friends are getting antsy as you're cooking it for well over thirty minutes, the other chefs moving away from you, seeing the fires of passion in your eyes
>Needs more Sake! Garlic! Mirin! Soy Sauce!
>Cook for longer, turning it over and over again
>Wendigo's practically creating a waterfall of saliva with her mouth agape at your art
>Plate it, put garnish in typical northerner fashion with a flagon of maple syrup nearby
>Tell her to dig in
"Ugh... boss..."
>Wendigo looks at the meat, looks back at you, back at the meat
>Takes a bite, you can practically see the heart pupils forming as she chews and fidgets in her seat, going a bright ruby red
>The last thing you remember of that day was her yelling out "HUSBAND-AWA~" in crude English before her cloak enveloped you
>Now you spend your days away from the cities, in a mountain lodge very few would be able to find
>Every Tuesday and Thursday you make the 'stretchy anime meat' for your Wendigo after the little ones have been rolled up into their sushi-cloaks
>Some say they can hear the wind howling in passion those nights, but for you, it's just your wife expressing her eternal love for your cooking