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{{Mature}}
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<tabber>
|-|1={{Quote|Welcome to Hawthorn. I am Julian Slowik. And tonight it will be our pleasure to feed you. Over the next few hours, you will ingest fat, salt, sugar, protein, bacteria, fungi, various plants, and animals -- at times entire ecosystems -- at a brisk but fair pace. We hope you find it musical, actually. But I wonder if you could all do one thing for me. '''Do not eat'''. Taste. Savor. Relish. Consider every morsel you place in your mouth and stomach. Be mindful. '''But do not eat'''. Our menu tonight is far too precious.|Julian asking his customers to not eat}}
|-|2={{Quote|The next course is called “Memory.” That’s what it’s meant to evoke -- a memory. Let me tell you one of mine. When I was a child growing up in Waterloo, Iowa, Tuesday was taco night. Taco Tuesday! This is my mother. As you can see, she is quite drunk. When I was seven years old, one Tuesday my father came home, also quite drunk. Not unusual. Mother grew angry and screamed at him. At which point he proceeded to wrap a telephone cord around her neck and pull it tight. I wept. I wept very hard and begged him to stop. He ignored me. To make him stop, I finally had to stab him in the thigh with kitchen scissors. You remember that mother, don’t you? We thought he might leave us for good. But he stayed in our home. And from that point forward, and until his death, we never exchanged a single word to each other. His mere presence brought unspeakable agony. '''I should have stabbed him in his fucking throat that evening'''! It was, as you can imagine, a very memorable taco night.|Julian talking about his past}}
|-|3={{Quote|Oh, no. We’re all going to die tonight. Isn’t that right?|Julian talking to his staff}}
|-|4={{Quote|Excellent question. I deserve to die because I’ve wasted my life. I thought I was an artist, but instead I see I’ve been slavishly trying to please people who can never be pleased -- starting with her. Now, at the peak of my powers, all I see is that my food turns instantly to shit inside a rich man’s stomach.|Julian explaining why he deserves to die}}
|-|5={{Quote|Do you hear that silence? Listen. Can you hear it? That silence means... I’m free.|Julian after killing Doug Verrick}}
</tabber>
==Background==
==Statistics==
'''[[Tiering System|Tier]]:''' '''10-B''', '''9-C''' with a Knife and Kitchen Scissors
'''Name:''' Julian Slowik, Chef
'''Origin:''' The Menu (2022 Movie)
'''Sex:''' Male
'''Age:''' Unknown (Appears to be in his 30's - 40's)
'''Classification:'''
'''[[Status]]:''' '''Deceased''' ([https://imgur.com/a/5fYNGpF Killed himself by the end of the movie])
'''[[Alignment]]:''' '''Lawful Evil''' (The only people he killed were either people who were bad people, made him mad, they were his servants who were okay with it, or he even told them ahead of time in the case of Tyler. He even gave them multiple chances to escape as well. However, he was fine with letting Erin go as she reminded him of what made cooking fun)
'''[[Dimensionality]]:''' '''3-D'''
'''[[Attack Potency]]:''' '''Human level''' (Is just a normal human), '''Peak Human level''' with a Knife and Kitchen Scissors (Although he has never used them in combat)
'''[[Durability]]:''' '''Human level''' (Although he has a tolerance to pain)
This character or verse has mature themes and concepts, thus those of young age are ill-advised to look through these.
“
Welcome to Hawthorn. I am Julian Slowik. And tonight it will be our pleasure to feed you. Over the next few hours, you will ingest fat, salt, sugar, protein, bacteria, fungi, various plants, and animals -- at times entire ecosystems -- at a brisk but fair pace. We hope you find it musical, actually. But I wonder if you could all do one thing for me. Do not eat. Taste. Savor. Relish. Consider every morsel you place in your mouth and stomach. Be mindful. But do not eat. Our menu tonight is far too precious.
„
~ Julian asking his customers to not eat
“
The next course is called “Memory.” That’s what it’s meant to evoke -- a memory. Let me tell you one of mine. When I was a child growing up in Waterloo, Iowa, Tuesday was taco night. Taco Tuesday! This is my mother. As you can see, she is quite drunk. When I was seven years old, one Tuesday my father came home, also quite drunk. Not unusual. Mother grew angry and screamed at him. At which point he proceeded to wrap a telephone cord around her neck and pull it tight. I wept. I wept very hard and begged him to stop. He ignored me. To make him stop, I finally had to stab him in the thigh with kitchen scissors. You remember that mother, don’t you? We thought he might leave us for good. But he stayed in our home. And from that point forward, and until his death, we never exchanged a single word to each other. His mere presence brought unspeakable agony. I should have stabbed him in his fucking throat that evening! It was, as you can imagine, a very memorable taco night.
„
~ Julian talking about his past
“
Oh, no. We’re all going to die tonight. Isn’t that right?
„
~ Julian talking to his staff
“
Excellent question. I deserve to die because I’ve wasted my life. I thought I was an artist, but instead I see I’ve been slavishly trying to please people who can never be pleased -- starting with her. Now, at the peak of my powers, all I see is that my food turns instantly to shit inside a rich man’s stomach.
„
~ Julian explaining why he deserves to die
“
Do you hear that silence? Listen. Can you hear it? That silence means... I’m free.
Alignment:Lawful Evil (The only people he killed were either people who were bad people, made him mad, they were his servants who were okay with it, or he even told them ahead of time in the case of Tyler. He even gave them multiple chances to escape as well. However, he was fine with letting Erin go as she reminded him of what made cooking fun)
