But instead of torture-eating fluffies, they dismemberdine on giant talking pathogens?
Absolutely yes
You are Dr. Harriet Roseman, and you’re going out with Dr. Clarke Fields on a date. The place you’re going is… interesting, so you can’t and won’t take your fan-favorite bio-toys there.
“Pwease? Wan gu wit’ mom-mee an’ nyu dad-dee!” FV-0446 begs, holding onto both your legs as you were about to leave.
“I’m sorry, no. Mommy’s going somewhere special with daddy.” You explain, taking it off of you and walking out the door.
“Wait! Can hab weftova nummies? Pwease?” FV-7410 asks, hugging your leg and walking back inside as you lock the door and get into the car.
You’re not sure at all if they’ll eat them, but sure. You’ll give them those leftover nummies.
You both walk into the restaurant, finding your reserved seats and ordering. Then, your food comes.
“Nyu mom-mee fo’ sickie-fwiend? An’, nyu dad-dee? Am su happies!” The Bestest Sickie Friend currently sitting on your plate squeals, clapping its hands as a waiter brings over a pot of boiling water.
“Do we just drop it in?” Clarke asks, getting a response of a positive nod and the waiter walking away.
“Oooh, wawm! Wike wawm! Wike cowd tiems betta, though. Did 'ou knyo that Bestesh Sickie Fwiends-” It giggles again as it feels the steam covering it, stopping as you drop it in and cover the pot with a lid.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! HEWP! PWEASE! Hewp sickie-fwiend! NEE’ HEWP!” It screeches, thrashing around in the water, serving to spread the boiling water over its body and only making it worse as it starts sinking.
“Do we pull it out now? Do we wait?” You ask Clarke, which he pulls it out with tongs and places it on your plate.
“Here, cut it in half and ask them for some sauce. I can’t really look at it knowing that we have two of these things at home.” Clarke whispers, handing you a knife and doing a swift cutting motion in the air.
“Nuuuu… Nu wan! Sickie-fwiends nu am fo’ cutties…” The aforementioned Bestest Sickie Friend tries to scream as you bring the knife down on it, exposing its innards.
“This is what their insides look like? What’s this hard ball in the middle?” You ask a waiter passing by, poking the hard thing with a fork.
“That’s called… I forgot, I didn’t pass Biology I. All I know that it contains all the Bestest Sickie Friend’s genetic material and psuedo-brain, and shouldn’t be eaten.” They respond, throwing the hard ball away and serving someone else.
“Here’s your part, Clarke. Enjoy!” You smile, giving him a slight peck on the cheek and eating your half.
“Are we both ready for another round of food? We’re passing out the big ones right about now.” The waiter chimes in, placing down a very large dish and taking off the top.
“Sickie-fwiend git nyu mom-mee an’ dad-dee? Am su happies! Wub 'ou!” A very enlarged Bestest Sickie Friend claps its stubby arms together excitedly, walking around the plate and plopping itself down in front of you.
“Follow me, please. We’re not allowed to have the pot for ones… this big.” The waiter motions towards a seating area next to the kitchen as you both sit down.
“Sickie-fwiend git mowe nummies nao? Am su happies! Wub nummies!” It squeals, jumping up and down until it’s placed down on a plastic board and strapped down.
“So, that’s why it’s so big.” Clarke mutters, turning his head away from the bloated Bestest Sickie Friend as he speaks.
“Wai sickie-fwiend nu can move? Am bad sickie-fwiend? Am nu happies… Nu wub this.” It questions, conveniently turned towards a Bestest Sickie Friend-sized gullotine, not realizing its fate.
“Sorry, but we want ‘nummies’.” You sigh, bringing the blade down as it still giggles, giggles turning into gurgling and then silence as you take the little hard ball out of it.
“Allow me to go in the back and get someone to cook it.” The waiter says, bringing the halved Bestest Sickie Friend to the kitchen and handing it to someone.
About 45 minutes later
“Can we take this to-go? Along with sauce, please?” You ask, as they hand you a large plastic box and put it inside.
“Thank you! It was really good, but now I feel a bit bad. Both emotionally and physically.” Clarke smiles, walking up to pay and walking out the door.
“Mom-mee an’ dad-dee bwing bak nummies? Am gud nummies?” FV-7410 asks, tapping the box just to check.
“Yes, the best nummies.” You lie, looking at the box and holding back laughter.
“Oooh, weaww- EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”