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.
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?”
And that’s when the trouble started…