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"The Head"

     As day shifted to night, I still remained in my kitchen, pealing away at the potatoes that sat before me. The sizzling skillets behind me flooded the room with a warm, crisp scent of bacon. My stomach was growling just standing here. I was so ready to feast, but I had to be patient. The best of things come to those who wait.
    Pealing my final potato, I sat it in the bowl and grabbed the cutting board to empty the shavings into the trash. As I did I jumped back in horror as I gazed into the trash and saw a pair of eyes staring back at me. I jumped, throwing the board back and dumping the shavings all over the floor behind me. But I didn't care. I was concerned with the thing in my trash.
    I pulled off the lid to get a better look, leaning back a bit just in case it leaped out at me or something. But as more light shone into the trash, I saw that it was a full on disembodied head of a man with a plain face, blue eyes, and blonde hair. His eyes were open and seemed to follow me. The rest of his face remained emotionless.
    How did it get there? I wondered. And was it alive? Surely it couldn't be, right? I mean, how could someone survive without a head?
    I leaned over, my finger outstretched to poke it. Its eyes followed my finger to its forehead before furrowing its brows in confusion. "What are you doing?" The head spoke, making me immediately jump back and scream out in terror.
    "What are you going around and touching people's faces for?" it demanded. "How would you feel if I jumped out of this here trash and poked you in the face? You wouldn't like it much, now would ya?"
    My mouth was agape. How dare it talk to me like that. "Excuse me, but how the hell did you get into my trash?" I asked.
    "Well, now look at you, thinking everything belongs to you," it snapped back. "I'll have you know I've been sitting in this trash for a few days now. You've paid no mind until just now. I'd say its my trash actually."
    At this point, the terror was fading into something more of frustration. Was I really about to let some random guy's head in the trash talk to me that way?
    I grabbed it by its hair and lifted him up to better face me.
    "Hey, put me down!" it demanded. "How dare you touch me like this! This is highly unethical!"
    "You know, I'm quite hungry," I said in a cold, harsh voice. "I've been cooking all day and I realized I don't have any meat. I think you'll do just fine."
    "Please no!" it pleaded. "Please, I'll do anything! Let me go! I'll go hide in someone else's trash bin!"
    "Too late," I shot back at him with a twisted smile.
    I quickly turned back to the skillet on the stove top. But as I turned, my feet started to slide out from under me. Those damn potato skins were still all over the floor! In my fall, I frantically reached for something to catch me and found something sharp. Falling directly toward my throat. And it cleanly sliced through...
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