Deluxe Topping Pie

The super fancy topping pie is waiting for you to dig in.

You should eat it slowly, really savour the chef's concept.

Eating this pie will almost certainly make you less of a man. What were you thinking, agreeing to take a wheat-free, meat-free pie from that sleazy bastard?

Throw the topping pie on the ground. You're not taking any bribes from questionable persons.

The pie lies sadly face-down on the ground, a waste of culinary creativity, some of its colourful toppings scattered around it.

He inclines his head. "Why...?" he starts, then thinks better of it.

Consume the pie contemplatively.

It's an unexpectedly pleasing combination of flavours and textures -- salty crunch of meatless bacon, butteriness of avocado, sweet bursts of pineapple and fig tempered by the pungency of basil, with a kick from the pepper, paprika, and lime... You have to admit: even the wheat-free crust is pretty good.

Even such a profound experience of topping pie has to come to an end, though. Soon, you have nothing but flour on your hands.

Even such a profound experience of topping pie has to come to an end, though. Soon, you have nothing but flour on your hands.

"Hey, Kim, share this topping pie with me?"

The lieutenant looks at you wearily. "Please let's not go through this again."

He sighs. "Haven't I already proven that we are comrades or whatever by splitting that sandwich with you?"

"I was just asking out of politeness."

"Well, then: no, thank you."

"But that was just a sandwich! This is a topping pie!"

"I thought it was the symbolism that was important, not the type of..." He takes off his glasses and rubs his forehead. "Please, just... enjoy the pie."

"Every meal we share strengthens our bond!"

"That depends on one's perspective." He takes off his glasses and rubs his forehead. "Please, just... enjoy the pie."

"Please, Kim. At least take one slice. It's really too big for me, and it's going to just grow colder and soggier if I keep any part of it..."

He thinks about it for a moment, then gingerly picks up a slice and starts chewing on it thoughtfully.

"Thank you, partner." (Eat the rest of the pie.)

He finishes his slice and brushes the wheat-free flour off his hands. "That wasn't terrible. Well, shall we?"

"Thank you, partner." (Eat the rest of the pie.)

"No, thank you."

His tone is almost stern beneath the politeness.

"Why won't you share my food with me, Kim?"

He sighs. "Don't take it personally."

"You ate that one man's salami. Why won't you eat my topping pie?"

"I just don't want any. Please, enjoy, and then let's move on."

"No, but really! You must..!" (Shove the topping pie into Kim's hands.)

The lieutenant takes the pie from you and calmly lets it fall to the ground, face down. "All done. Shall we?"

"Okay."

The pie is still in your hands, its round face untouched, unbroken.

"I've seen you share the food of other people! Can't help but wonder if you consider me an enemy."

"That's a ridiculous notion. We are not living in a highly ritualistic society where not sharing food with someone indicates animosity. We are in Revachol, where people ought to be free not to eat topping pie when they are not hungry."

"Okay."

The pie is still in your hands, its round face untouched, unbroken.

"Don't you ever eat?"

The lieutenant crosses his arms. "Food of my choice, on my own schedule."

Leave it for later. [Put the topping pie away.]

I'm hungover and famished! Who cares what's on it? Devour that topping pie!

You can barely taste what you're eating as you shove the slices in your mouth, but you can tell: it's doing your body good. Soon it's all gone -- just some wheat-free flour left on your hands.

You can barely taste what you're eating as you shove the slices in your mouth, but you can tell: it's doing your body good. Soon it's all gone -- just some wheat-free flour left on your hands.