A Bowl of Spaghetti

[Backo]

Eliza Valdez poked the bowl of pasta cautiously with her fork. The menu stated this was in fact spaghetti bolognese, though the presentation left much to be desired. The noodles were rather watery and gooey as if they were left to cook for too long. The supposedly bolognese sauce on top wasn't making the ordeal any better. The meat reminded her of dog food or some other Synth Foods product that was popular for explorers of the Edge Worlds on a really tight budget. It looked way too dark and brown which likely indicated tomatoes or any synthetic imitation of them was clearly missing from this recipe. There also weren't any visible vegetables or other seasoning by the looks of it. Another horrifying detail caught her attention, the cherry or well - cheese on top of the bowl of spaghetti. It was hard to identify it at just a glance but it reminded her much more of mozzarella rather than of parmesan. It was just as watery looking as the rest of her pasta. The shivering thought that someone washed the whole dish before serving it to her passed through her head. A bit more water to it and it could almost pass for noodle soup. But this wasn't Kusari, and this wasn't ramen, it was supposed to be spaghetti bolognese!

Sadly just poking the pasta with a fork was not going to reveal the true extent of this culinary disaster even if visual examination was able to reveal more flaws than Eliza could ever imagine be in a bowl of bolognese. She stabbed the noodles with considerable reservation and slowly rolled it around her fork. The gooey spaghetti at first resisted by almost slipping away from the fork, but with enough persistence she managed to persevere and get a mouthful on her cutlery. Raising it to her eye level, Eliza took another close look at the pasta. The thought of having to consume this meal made Eliza regret leaving Malta at this very moment. She wanted to opt out of this experience, but at the same time her stomach was rumbling and this was supposedly the best this station had to offer her at the moment. Valdez let out a sigh of desperation and uttered a silent prayer before finally taking a taste of her spaghetti.

The texture. It was as liquid and gooey as it looked. And it was cold! Her facial expression shriveled like a hag that is being poisoned. Was this pasta cooked long ago and simply reheated? At this very moment the Maltese pilot could easily recall at least 3 instances of eating Synth Paste that was much more flavorful than this. And that was just in the last two months. There was no way this bowl of spaghetti was made sincerely. That or the cook needed to have his license torn to tiny pieces and his access to the kitchen permanently revoked. If Eliza had to describe this dish at this very moment, only two words could clearly come to her mind - culinary terrorism. She looked around her, there weren't many other people in the establishment. With a good reason, Eliza thought. Perhaps her being the new person here was the reason the Outcast didn't know better to not order anything and stick to synth paste or old and stale food rations.

Valdez took another stab at the gooey pasta and disgustedly rolled another mouthful around her fork. The sooner схе finished this bowl of spaghetti, the sooner she can put this traumatic experience behind her. A badge of heroism perhaps? It was psychological trick to try and motivate herself through this suffering, as if it was anything but such. And up into her mouth it went, inducing another wrinkling grimace from the cold and moist texture. Eliza looked down her bowl, she was down two bites of this nightmarish pasta, but there was plenty more of it left. But enough about the spaghetti, she was actually here to meet Damian Morretti.

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Republic of the Sword and Sun