Deirdre not only looked like a sociopath, she was. But unlike your stereotypical psycho she was patient, endlessly so, but then she had the time. Her most arresting, if you’ll pardon the pun, feature was her now natural, bleach white coloured hair. Her hair had been a glorious deep red, and had inspired many to wonder if other gingers didn’t have souls either. It had gone that colour within hours of her first sequence of several hundred orgasms, which she had achieved as a result of her slaughter, butchery, cooking and subsequent consumption of her first police officer, all in just three days. She wasn’t too fond of other vegetables.

Her small mouth was round and crinkled, and it was in a state of continual motion as it strained like the anus of a constipated whippet. Her pointed tail like nose, rigidly quivering above her straining sphincter, and her visible tongue, obscenely suggestive of an almost successful bowel movement as it repeatedly attempted to overcome the resistance to its freedom, enhanced the resemblance, but it was her intelligent eyes that gave away the fact that there was no sycophantic canine mentality behind them. Adamantinely hard and remorseless as time they were inky black with the sparkle of ice. They were set in her thin narrow face and made her look as if she were a member of the mustelidae, known throughout all history as the family of carnivora that harboured more ferocity and attitude per gram of body weight than any other.

An interesting but not particularly intelligent observation is that Gulo gulo most commonly known as the wolverine is also known as the gluton. It’s not particularly intelligent because gulo translates as gluton from the Latin.

Deirdre saw her existence as one that required infinite patience, and it gave her time to reflect on her future activities. She was in love with Hannibal Lecter, and days at a time would pass her by as lost in her erotic fantasies concerning their honey moon and subsequent marital life she pleasured herself to the point of pain and beyond. She had all the time in the world to perfect the preparations for her next decent meal. In three hundred and twenty four years she would have served her time, and despite their reputation for being arrogant and insensitive to the point of poor taste, she fancied having a social worker round for dinner.