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"YOU WILL EAT MY PASTA OFFERING AND LIKE IT."
"I literally can't!" he snapped back "I don't have a fucking stomach, it can't go anywhere!" okay so maybe yelling at the entity responsible for covering him spaghetti several times today wasn't the best idea, but the android was fed up. Serious though, who the fuck thought that just tossing cooked pasta on a person was a good way of convincing them to eat it?
Spaghetti drops from the sky and lands on Sixty.
Had he irritated some spaghetti deity? Why was he alone punished like this? Would he ever know peace again?
Shaking off his own dramatics, the android resigned himself to cleaning himself off, thankful that at least this time there wasn't any sauce on the pasta.
A second serving starts falling from the sky. The God didn't forget the sauce this time, but the smell was suspicious.
At this point the android wasn't sure what he could do, his laundry was piling up faster than he could cycle it. And this round of sky pasta smelled strange. The worst part wasn't how he couldn't eat the pasta, but since he couldn't guarantee that it was safe, he couldn't even try to catch any of it in a bowl and pass on to someone who was actually hungry.
