In a momentary computation of all available data, you attempt to ascertain what your mother’s favourite meal is that could possibly have cockroaches insinuated into it without her immediately noticing. Before your brain can putter about this for too long, you realize that you never learned how to cook anything other than hot pockets. Shit. “How can I get these critters into a frozen pocket?” you ponder. Meanwhile; your body absent-mindedly, while operating on muscle memory, begins the process of unwrapping one and slapping it into the radiation machine. As the 2 minute 30 second ding provides your Pavlovian salivatory response, you open the door to procure your pizzaish prize. The second the circulating air from inside the radiation machine floods the room, the patio sliding windows erupt in a barrage of ravenous Earth Angels descending upon the steaming food like a horde of demons from Hades feasting upon the vacuity of your worthless soul. In a feat of amazing intuition you slam the door shut upon them and crank the machine on again. Surely once they are cooked you can find some culinary use for them? The hardest part is about to be over.
Of course the hardest part turns out to be scraping the Earth Angel guts off of the walls of the Make Food Now Machine. In a stroke of brilliant luck however: it turns out the goo you have now scooped into a bowl looks surprisingly like the mysterious insides of a pizza pocket! What fortune! Verily the Gods of science hath shone down upon thee this day and hath determined thine plans be good, and worthy of their glory. You race to the freezer to look upon the ingredient listing, and find what you assume to be the official Latin terminology for cockroach. “Amazing!” you think, despite what your liberal arts professor thought, corporations are mad environmental and ethical! It is only your personal dilemma which still ensues, with complications aplenty!