Jack stared down at his half-eaten Lunchable.

“This is my soul,” he mumbled.

“Christ!” Bill shouted, “Are you going to be emo every day of the week?”

“Lesley left me.”

“I know. We all know. The whole damn cafeteria knows. You know how we know?” Bill paused, waiting for an answer.

“Because I told-”

“Because you wont freaking shut up about it!” Bill stabbed violently at his salad for emphasis. “Every day you come in here and moan that whatever cheap garbage your eating is somehow your soul. So indulge me Jack. How is a pack of crackers and a juice box somehow like your soul?”

Jack looked down at his half-eaten meal. He’d made a couple cute little sandwiches with some of the cheese and little lunch meat slices.

“Because… it’s cheap and tasteless…” he said. “It’s unsatisfying, and two hours after you eat it, you’re hungry again…” He started to cry. Bill sighed

“Well then, I can fix this.” he said.

“How?” asked Jack.

“You have no soul!”

“Oh…” Jack smiled. “Thanks man.”

“Don’t mention it.”