John Rook, who beat a nurse to death, ordered a dozen hot dogs and two Cokes. Arsenic killer Velma Barfield asked for Cheez Doodles and a Kit Kat. Ricky Lee Sanderson, a killer and rapist, wanted only a honey bun.

Those are a few of the last meals requested by the 39 inmates executed by North Carolina since 1984. This week, if Perrie Dyon Simpson becomes the 40th, reporters will dutifully relay the details of his final feast.

In North Carolina, death row inmates can order whatever they want within reason, said Keith Acree, a state prison system spokesman. Inmates have dined on takeout from McDonald's and Arby's. Pizza has been ordered more than steak. Although Pepsi was invented in New Bern, the inmates prefer Coke products. A beer or a shot of whiskey has never been an option; an after-dinner cigarette, if it ever was a possibility, is no longer since Central Prison became smoke-free Jan. 1.

The strangest request, Acree said, was rabbit stew. It went unfulfilled; no restaurants were serving it that day.

If necessary, a senior staffer goes out to get the food. Usually at 5 p.m. on the day before the scheduled execution at 2 a.m., the inmate dines alone in the death watch area, a special cell across the hall from the death chamber.

The American public seems fascinated by the final culinary choices of the doomed. For several years, Texas kept a list of its inmates' final meals online, which an official says was the most popular page on its Web site. Former Texas inmate Brian D. Price, who used to cook meals for the soon-to-be executed, parlayed that experience into a cookbook titled "Meals to Die For." A Web site, deadmaneating.com, lists last meals for inmates across the country and sells T-shirts, coffee mugs and an apron with its logo.

"The love of food is sort of a common denominator that connects everybody," said Ty Treadwell of Roswell, Ga., who is co-author of "Last Suppers -- Famous Final Meals From Death Row."

"When you read about what they chose for their last meal," Treadwell said, "all of a sudden you might find something that you have in common with these people."

He figures some readers might sympathize, thinking: "I've never killed anybody with a hammer, but I do love fried chicken."

Disgusting voyeurism?

Others are disgusted. In fact, Texas officials removed the last meal list from its Web site because of numerous complaints.

"Some death penalty opponents thought it was in poor taste and too voyeuristic," said Michelle Lyons, a Texas prison spokeswoman.

The origin of the last meal ritual has been difficult for historians to identify, but a final pleasure before death -- such as a last cigarette before the firing squad -- may date back as far as the Middle Ages, according to Bill Hayes, a capital punishment historian in Leesburg, Fla. For decades, Hayes has been amassing information about the death penalty, including detailed profiles of about 7,000 inmates who have been on death row since 1972.

In the last century, Hayes said, a last meal became common practice. In the 1940s and 1950s, San Quentin's warden, Clinton Duffy, used to share a last drink with the condemned, Hayes said.

Now, the ritual varies by state. Texas offers only what can be made in the prison. Virginia allows requests for items off the most recent 28-day menu. In Florida, there is a $20 limit on the meal's cost. Maryland doesn't offer any kind of special last meal.

Last meal requests range from the high end -- bacon-wrapped filet mignon, lobster and shrimp with garlic butter -- to home cookin' -- pig's feet, collard greens and chitlins. In 2001, the last food to touch the lips of Gerald Wayne Bivins, an Indiana killer, was made by his mother. Prison officials let Bivins' mom use the prison kitchen to prepare German ravioli and chicken and dumplings.

Fast food is final choice

Others prefer fast food. In 1992, California murderer Robert Alton Harris ordered a 21-piece Kentucky Fried Chicken dinner and two Domino's pizzas.

Treadwell says red meat -- "beef in all its forms" -- is the most requested fare, by far, for last meals.

But Treadwell's co-author, Michelle Vernon, notes, "If you get a steak, you don't get a steak knife. It takes a little bit away from the dining experience."

Thomas Grasso, an Oklahoma inmate, was so disappointed with his last meal in 1995 that he complained: "Please tell the media I did not get my SpaghettiOs. I got spaghetti."

One of the favorites of California actor Mike Randleman, who operates deadmaneating.com, is Ohio murderer Robert A. Buell's request in 2002: one black olive with a pit.

The most gluttonous feast that Randleman ever encountered was ordered by Texas murderer Stanley Baker in May 2002: two 16-ounce rib-eyes; 12 strips of bacon; two large hamburgers with mayo, onion and lettuce; two large baked potatoes with butter, sour cream, cheese, and chives; four slices of cheese or one-half pound of grated cheddar cheese; a chef salad with blue cheese dressing; two ears of corn; one pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream and four vanilla Cokes or Mr. Pibb.

Texas officials did not keep a record of how much of that Baker ate.

"I'm looking forward to the last meal," he told The Associated Press, "but not the part that comes after."

(News researcher Lamara Williams-Hackett contributed to this report.)