It was the final of Masterchef. Just me and Tony, one on one. We were in the kitchen, surrounded by herbs, spices and other ingredients-but no meat. We waited to see what the final challenge would be.

In walked two naked girls, probably no older than ten. My heart sank. Tony was a girl-meat specialist. He was smirking, the bastard.

We were told that we had 2 hours to make a two-course meal out of the girls. My meat smiled gamely at me as the clock started ticking.

“Good luck” she said. Her ass looked plump. I would start there.