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At a tender age Candy Fingerhutt was fed hearty portions of soylent green and endured regular beatings with habenero covered whips. She knew she had to escape the jungle people. There had to be more to life than choking on fingernails after every meal, and quite frankly she was sick of smelling like Mexican food. She shed her jungle image, hid her taste for flesh, and tried looking as normal as possible in a clan of Southern Baptist Bible beaters. Unfortunately, she took the "body and blood" of Christ a tad too literally and had to flee many a small Texas towns with only a trail of appendages left behind. She relocated herself to England and quickly felt at home with the meat pies and stews, knowing as long as she chose the most unpopular child her sweet sweet fillings would never be missed. Only one with such a refined taste for the flesh could tell you the unique flavors (or shall we say flavours) of the northern monkey or the southern fairy. Aware her visa was coming to an end she packed in as much lad as she could handle and hopped a jet plane to NYC. Now she frequents local bars in hopes that you might understand if she just so happens to take more than a nibble out of your ear...

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