“Do something,” came a high-pitched voice from her left.

Lola turned to see a Chinese man with a bloody hand pointing to the fat man and hopping up and down. A Mexican man stood beside him, his mustache twitching and his eyes darting from Lola to the Chinese man to the fat fuck on the floor.

Lola searched for her partner, but saw that he’d barely made it to the door. Sweat beads decorated his face.

She ran to the table, grabbed the woman by the arm. Just then, the chubby boy who sat at the table, oblivious to his mother being attacked and bleeding to death in front of him, got up and joined his father at the buffet line. Lola pulled the woman backward, who immediately thrashed and struggled to get back to her plate. Lola shoved her arms under the woman’s armpits, and spun her away from the table.

“No…I’m not done. P-please…I need more.”

“You’re hurt, ma’am.” Lola felt stupid for stating the obvious, but the woman truly didn’t seem to know. Jennings was finally there and Lola passed the woman to him, told him to call an ambulance.

“And who the fuck’re you to give orders?”

Lola noticed him smelling the air and she could have kicked him in the nuts right then. She didn’t give him a response. As she turned toward the man on the floor, who licked up blood from the rug, she heard Jennings calling for EMS behind her.

Lola stepped toward the man, but not too close. If the son of a bitch laid a single finger on her, she didn’t know if she could hold it together.

He looked up at her, his face knots and wrinkles of pain. His eyes bulged, his breaths whistled. “Please. Feed me.”

“Put your hands behind your head.” She said it because it came natural, but she knew he wouldn’t listen. It didn’t look like this guy could even reach the back of his head.

The customers should be rubber-necking now, she thought. Bystanders were usually incapable of ignoring the drama of an arrest. But no. Not even a wandering eye as far as she could tell. The air was alive with grotesque moaning, smacking, sucking, crunching. The chirps of utensils hitting ceramic were endless.

She knew she had to get out of there, knew a few more minutes meant the end of her very sanity. The contents of her stomach wanted badly to mingle with the woman’s blood on the floor.

“Stay calm, ma’am. Help is on the way,” Jennings said from behind, taking labored breaths as the words oozed from his lips.

“I’m…I’m not done. More food. More food!” The woman wrestled with Jennings, but his meaty arms kept her at bay.

Lola took a tentative step toward the pile of fat wriggling on the floor before her. His face pinched into a sneering grimace as she grew nearer. He reached for her, but his fingers wrapped around air.

“Sir, do not resist.” She pulled out her mace, ready to burn the fucker’s eyes right out of his skull if he took another swipe at her.