Great Deceiver Food Boxen

I recently have acquired some cock sauce and I feel that it is the sort of thing I would like to take with me everywhere, just in case a situation comes up. I encourage everyone else to do the same.

I exited the building looking at my altimeter I always carry with me wherever I go. 417 feet beneath the ground level. It looked like I was in the heart of a city. Everything had a pale green hue to it, reminding me of the color of someone’s skin if poisonous artichokes were to be passively eaten by them. Feeling a sense of accomplishment for having come so far, I looked upwards dramatically, but the cave’s ceiling was there blocking a sweet view of clouds or a starry sky. Anyway, I had wanderlust and began to head over to the local mall.

~A long time ago, the people lived happily and freely, but, without their knowing, an evil slowly began to spread, clouding their minds and souls with darkness. Naturally, they proceeded to make a pact with the devil. Raising the devil’s battlement edition loftcube, they hoped to bring a new man into the world. One who would be remembered by history as the first to invent long steel cutlery, harbingering a new age, and going forth to sample fine foods everywhere.~

I put back the movie in the foreign film section. der gottlose Feinschmecker. These things weird me out sometimes, but I have a fondness for them. I just browsed through some more aisles for stuff before heading out. I was getting hungry again at this point, so I start looking for some chomps. Anything will do, but I was hoping for some specially prepared still sealed meals. Maybe it’s an eating disorder or mental condition, but I want to be sure that I’m the first one to have eaten from a specific food item. A heaping plate of risotto was sitting out, so I engaged in gormandization, and once satisfied, I headed once again on my way.

Makin Bacon

It may be a difficult procedure, but if you can cook your bacon rare, you will have the opportunity to collect the benefits. And don’t let people discourage you by telling you it’s just soggy old bacon.

Light steel walls lined the corridor and the floor was made of dirty metal grating, with a river of strawberry drug-laced milk running beneath it. Strawberry milk can be dangerous, because if you, specifically, start drinking it and get a thing going on, you can forget how you like banana milk so much more. I saw another stairwell going down, so I proceeded. Upon reaching the top of my ascent, I was in a small bedroom, with the ceiling at an angle, I assume because of the roof of the building. The room had a light brown feeling to it, sort of like the house was made out of wood, except that it wasn’t. There was however a desk made out of wood, and on it was placed a bowl of soup. I couldn’t resist, so I tried it out. A little taste test. I don’t want the next person who eats from this to die from poisoning. As I swallowed, memories rushed into my mind.

~I am carrying a bowl of soup, with mittens on, to protect me from the heat. I walk a bit too quickly, and the hot liquid spills onto the mittens, going through to my skin. Unable to just stop now, I continue on to the cellar, where I can finally place the bowl down safely. Relieved that the soup is safe, I take the mittens off, to find out that my hands have become melded. Now, I was looking upon one fine pair of club hands.~

I leave the soup where it was, confident that it is indeed safe, and headed back down the stairs. Arriving at the landing, I read a panel on the left wall: “B22”. I estimated that I must have been 367 feet underground at this point. Despite the hallways being mostly dark, I was able to see things clearly, and commit all the images to memory. The walls looked to be maybe some sort of concrete, with cracks in it from vines growing through. I imagined that a shopping mall could have been located here at one point, so I took a look into one of the side rooms, and saw a display of products. Back into the hallway, I headed down to continue, hoping to perhaps find some old stereo equipment along the way.

Sandwich Time ist over.

I invented a food teleporter for sending food long distances, but I had mixed feelings about it. After it scans the food item and replicates it at the destination, it destroys the original. Was the food actually teleported? I don’t want such a device to exist in this world.

After a sandwich is gone, I lose track of time. My autowandering took over, and I arrived at an underground room with shiny steel walls, and rusty bolts along seams. On all the sides of the bolts, blue goo was present. I went through the tunnels at the end of the room and took a left turn, arriving at the information room. A glass panel was on the wall, and through it, packages passed by on a conveyer belt. I turned towards my mailboxen, but first noticed the newspaper stand nearby. I picked up my favorite, and took a look through to see if I could find anything. There were some ads for vacations in the fjords, and also articles on food etiquette. Something about the food article seemed familiar to me, so I checked it out.

~... but be careful. Once you reach the center, you cannot continue eating. To do so would be a serious mealtime faux pas. If you need help, just try to imagine you are eating artichoke hearts. So in the future, please plan out your strategy for eating cinnamon rolls ahead of time so you don’t get backed into a corner at the dinner table.~

I noticed that I was the one that wrote the article. I put my pen down, and snipped a coupon for some mushrooms. I always love a good mushroom deal.

music to accompany the internote: Cinema Bizarre - Love Songs (They Kill Me).