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One Order To Go

“You like? Me make more!”

You have to admit, for a Trelea, he was a good cook. Enthusiastic, boisterous, and really, really annoying. “No Gea, I can’t eat any more. It’s good, but I’m human, we take time to digest our food.”

“How long to digest?” Gea asked, sautéing some sort of plant.

“Um, four, six hours…” I estimated.

He pulled the pan off the stove and put two of his arms on his hips. “Four to six hours? No good! No good! I fix!”

I should have left at that point. Really, I should have. But like a deer in the headlights, I sat there while he rummaged through his bags and pulled out a pill.

“Eat this, fix your problem,” he said.

What the hell. Whatever it was, it would be reversible.

Yeah, right.

So I chewed the pill. It had a berry flavor, not that I could tell you what kind of berry. Just berry. And then, I wasn’t full anymore.

“OK, what did that do?” I asked.

“Digestion improved,” said Gea. “All digested. No waste.”

“Wait… all that food?”

“Yes”

And that’s when the trouble started…

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