The Super Squeezy Spaghetti Squeezy 9001
>”Tell me what I’m looking at here, Marshall.”
>”It’s what’s going to feed all of those hungry fluffies once the park opens.”
>”Really? Kinda looks like the Super Speedy Cider Squeezy 6000, only bumped up to 9001.”
>”What is a Cider Squeezy?”
>”Didn’t you ever watch…you know what? Nevermind.”
>Marshall sets some dials on a huge machine. It looks like a mishmash of several smaller machines, all united to perform a bigger purpose.
>You are Jennifer Kinney, head manager of Spaghetti Land’s dining area, which is nearing completion.
>It’s a pretty impressive layout now that you can see it.
>The building is a giant circle. On top of the building is an enormous fiberglass pile of spaghetti.
>Must be at least 120 feet high, you can see it for miles.
>Under Spaghetti Mountain sits the nexus of the dining operation.
>Everything you need to keep the dining area stocked, maintained, and cleaned can be found in here.
>Attached to the main building are several smaller circles that serve as the food kiosks.
>There are 12 of them all along the circumference, so an owner and their fluffy can have quick and easy access to food no matter what side of the area they’re eating in.
>The rest of the area is mostly dining tables, with litterboxes stationed every 15 yards.
>In addition, there are plenty of scent towers scattered throughout the tables.
>They stand at about 15 feet and, once the park is opened, will emit a spray of odor-neutralizing chemicals.
>This will make sure that the smell of the litterboxes don’t ruin anybody’s appetite.
>Most of the big important factors have been dealt with, except for one:
>How are we going to feed that many fluffies?
>Human food was easily taken care of, with the park contracting out to the same suppliers as sports stadiums.
>Pizza, hot dogs, hamburgers, all that song and jazz.
>But the park was called Spaghetti Land for a reason, and your team had to figure out how to get enough spaghetti prepared each day.
>When the issue was brought up in meetings, there were tons of suggestions, but most of them had their own problems.
>Import cooked spaghetti into the park?
>It’d go stale before the park’s closing, and it would be costly.
>Buy uncooked spaghetti in bulk and cook it on site?
>There wasn’t a very practical way to cook so much spaghetti while still guaranteeing a uniform product, and boiling pots of water are just begging for an accident to happen.
>Serve other foods besides spaghetti to offset demand?
>You already have plans to offer fresh fruit, oatmeal, and other tasty treats for fluffies. But it wouldn’t come close to offsetting demand for spaghetti in any meaningful way.
>Fluffies coming to Spaghetti Land are going to be expecting spaghetti and lots of it.
>Their brains have been hardcoded to consider the most basic of pasta to be the very food of the gods.
>Most likely so that fluffies could be placated by a very cheap, easily made food that only humans could prepare.
>Several proposals were brought before the Board, and all of them were rejected on the basis of feasibility or cost.
>Luckily, Marshall Conagher, an engineer and architect of several of the rides in Spaghetti Land, offered to come up with a cost-effective solution.
>Dude’s the best at solving practical problems.
>”Okay, Jennifer, let me show you how this thing works.”
>You step up to the machine and Marshall pulls a few switches and presses a few buttons, bringing the machine to life.
>He motions you over to what looks like several holding tanks. They are labeled ‘FLOUR,’ ‘EGG,’ ‘SALT,’ and ‘OIL.’
>”This is where the ingredients are held. If the tanks are fully loaded, the machine can run continously for an entire day and a half. They can be easily refilled through the ports on the top.”
>You move over to the next part, which is a big glass container in which the ingredients are being poured into.
>A mixing arm turns the ingredients into pasta dough.
>”Transparent glass for quality control.”
>The next step pushes the dough through a press, then another, smaller press.
>Soon the spaghetti is thin enough to cut.
>You keep moving down the machine, seeing where the pasta comes out through a spaghetti cutter, which is cranking out large amounts of soft spaghetti.
>The cutter is pointed straight down, and the spaghetti slowly oozes down through a chamber full of heat lamps and dehumidifiers.
>A scissor periodically swipes across the spaghetti, cutting it into foot long strands.
>The now solid but still malleable spaghetti strands fall into a bin at the bottom. When the bin fills, it slides away along a conveyer belt, and a new bin takes its place.
>As the bin moves along, it automatically closes shut.
>A light on a small reservoir of water on the side of the bin blinks green.
>”You see, once the bin is full, the water compartment starts heating up rapidly, which floods the bin with steam, cooking the spaghetti in seconds.”
>The conveyor belt rolls upward along a track which run the circumference of the building.
>Along the track are holes situated at each kiosk.
>Each kiosk has three spaghetti containers with a scale at the bottom.
>If the container detects that its weight is too low, a signal is sent to the machine.
>The bins roll along the track and deposit spaghetti in any container that needs a refill on spaghetti.
>After a bin has dropped its payload, it makes the round trip back to the machine, where it rolls underneath.
>A water tank at the bottom quickly refills the steam compartment and it rolls back through to be filled with more spaghetti.
>The entire process from start to finish takes less than 3 minutes.
>”Holy crap, Marshall, you really outdid yourself this time. With the spaghetti containers being constantly refilled with fresh, hot spaghetti, we won’t need to worry about shortages!”
>”Yep. She’s a real thing of beauty. Only one kink left to iron out.”
>”And what might that be?”
>”Ever had pasta that was mixed and cut only minutes ago?”
>”Can’t say that I have.”
>Marshall takes out a bowl of spaghetti and hands it to you. “First time for everything.”
>You grab a noodle and put it in your mouth.
>It falls apart almost immediately.
>It’s so tender it breaks up in your mouth, feeling more like a paste or dough than a cooked product.
>It also doesn’t taste that good.
>”Well, you get an A+ for your engineering skills, but an F for culinary mastery. Why is it so bland and pasty?”
>”For starters, we’re using the cheapest ingredients we could get. Furthermore, because the spaghetti is only half dry when it’s steamed, it loses a lot of its composition.”
>”Then why not dry it completely?”
>”That would add a few minutes on the production time, and it’s probably not necessary anyway.”
>”What are you talking about? This spaghetti is gross.”
>”To humans, yes. But it’s not for humans, is it?”
>”…Okay, I see what you’re getting at. But will the fluffies go for this?”
>”That’s what we’re about to find out.”
>Marshall takes you to another room in the building. Turning on the lights, you see several cages, each one with a single fluffy pony in it.
>They all wake up when the lights turn on, and shove their faces at the bars, all babbling something like “New fwend? Wan pway? Pwease gif nummies.”
>You count 5 fluffies of different colors, types, and states of health.
>The purple unicorn on the far right looks rather fat and happy, while the pink earth fluffy on the far left looks like Marshall just picked it up off the street.
>Poor little thing looks half starved.
>You can barely hear her asking for food. “Pwease, nice hoomans, pwease gif nummies. Fwuffy so hungwy, nee’ nummies…”
>”Marshall, you mind telling me why you’re deliberately letting a fluffy starve to death? You know the rules here. Anyone who shows any signs of fluffy abuse will be fired on the spot.”
>”Easy there, Jennifer. I ain’t the one who’s starving her. I found her outside the park today. She was trying to find a way around the walls to get to the Spaghetti Tower. When I came in for the day, she begged me to help her get to ‘big sketti.’ So I brought her in.”
>”That’s touching, Marshall, but it doesn’t explain why you haven’t fed her yet. You’ve been here for 3 hours.”
>”I had to finish my final checkup on the machine before turning it on. Now that it’s produced without any complications, we’re ready to test the product on an unbiased subject group.”
>You see where he’s going with this.
>”They’re fluffies, Marshall, they’re not exactly unbiased when it comes to spaghetti.”
>At the mention of the word, the fluffies in the cages go nuts.
>”SKETTI? WAN SKETTI! NUMMY SKETTI!”
>”Pwease sketti, so hungwy…”
>You pick up the cage with the starving stray.
>”Seriously, Marshall, she better be first.”
>”Keep your damn pants on woman and just follow me.”
>You oblige and carry the cage to a small empty room with a table. You set the cage down and open the door.
>The mare waits in her cage, unsure of what to do.
>”It’s okay, little girl, you can come out.”
>She takes several cautious steps out onto the table and looks up at you with scared but hopeful eyes.
>”Nu huwt fwuffy?”
>”I won’t hurt you. I need you to sit right where you are, OK? We’ll get you some food.”
>With that promise, the fluffy sits down. “Yay, nummies,” she says without smiling. She’s been lied to before.
>Marshall comes back in the room with one of the spaghetti containers. The fluffy’s tummy rumbles loudly at the sight.
>Most fluffies would immediately run at the container, but the mare sits obediently. You reward her by petting and scratching her head. She smiles a little bit.
>Marshall takes a spaghetti ladle and drops a portion into a thin plastic bowl.
>He makes sure the spaghetti is still warm, and samples a noodle to make sure it’s the same as the last batch. Satisfied, he places the bowl before the mare and says “Go ahead, eat.”
>The mare barely has time to mutter a “Fank yoo” before her head disappears into the bowl, munching on the cheap crappy spaghetti as fast as her mouth can move.
>The bowl is empty in less than two minutes, and the stray is now licking the sides.
>After a few licks, she realizes there is no more spaghetti to be found in the bowl.
>She runs over to Marshall and hugs him. “Fank yoo fo skettis, mista! Wuv mista!”
>Marshall jots a few notes on his clipboard, then reaches down to pet the stray.
>”You’re very welcome, sweetheart. Can I ask you some questions now?”
>The mare sits down and looks up happily, looking much better now that she has a meal in her.
>”Otay, mista!”
>”What did you just eat?”
>The mare beams. ”Fwuffy eat sketti!”
>”Very good. And did you like the spaghetti?”
>The mare nods furiously. ”Sketti was yummy nummies! Make tummy happy fo yummy nummies!”
>”How very Seussical of you to say.”
>”Wha soosicaw?”
>”Never mind, sweetheart. Does your tummy hurt at all?”
>She shakes her head. “Tummy no huwt no mo’, but fwuffy stiw feew hungwy feew. Haf mo’ yummy nummies fow tummy?”
>She sure seems to enjoy that rhyme.
>Marshall shrugs. “Eh, why not? You’re supposed to get one bowl and then observed for any adverse reactions, but you’ve been such a good little helper, you can have more.”
>The mare giggles as she hops up and down. “Fwuffy hewper! Get nummies fo’ hewp!”
>You and Marshall laugh at her enthusiasm. What can you say, it’s infectious.
>Marshall refills her bowl and she digs in happily.
>Marshall leaves her at it and walks over to you with his clipboard.
>”Well, it’s bland and it doesn’t really feel like a noodle, but it doesn’t seem like the fluffies mind. She still considered it to be spaghetti, she didn’t mind the taste, and there’s no immediate stomach pains. I’ll have to test it out on the other fluffies to be sure, though. I think this one would have eaten shoelaces if it meant having something in her stomach.”
>After the mare finishes her bowl and Marshall gives her one more (to her unimaginable joy), the now full fluffy is led back into her cage, and she is brought back to the room with the other fluffies.
>The next fluffy is taken to the testing room, a yellow pegasus.
>”This is one that was taken from an adoption center with very low standards of care. His coat used to be a lot more brown before I cleaned him. He’s been given very meager portions of cheap fluffy chow.”
>The pegasus fluffy takes to the spaghetti with the same amount of gusto as the pink earth mare.
>Next two were from shelters with a better reputation and given normal meals for a few days.
>Same results. Spaghetti is all the same to them.
>The fat purple unicorn is brought in.
>”Now for the big test. This fluffy has been fed only the best fluffy food for a week, including that high-end store spaghetti. His palate will be as discerning as any of the spoiled fluffies that some owners will be bringing.”
>His chubby legs drag him over to the plate. He sniffs the spaghetti a few times, then takes a bite.
>Then another bite.
>And another.
>Soon the entire bowl is gone and he’s asking for more.
>Marshall ignores him and stuffs him back into his cage, with some difficulty.
>”Success! The fluffies eat the spaghetti without any complaint! The Super Speedy Spaghetti Squeezy 9001 is ready for use!”
>”Well, that’s a load off of my mind. Now I can work on- wait, Super Speedy Spaghetti Squeezy 9001? I thought you didn’t know what a Cider Squeezy was!”
>”I don’t, but I know a good name when I hear one…”
>You are Marshal Conagher, lead architect for the rides in Spaghetti Land.
>You have just come home from a busy day of putting the finishing touches on the Super Speedy Spaghetti Squeezy 9001.
>Continued observation of the fluffies that were fed spaghetti produced by the SSSS 9001 showed that they digested and passed the food without any issues at all.
>The board was extremely pleased to hear that no more serious testing or development was needed.
>One board member made some very unsubtle hints that your bonus pay was going to let you, and you quote, “buy every restaurant and club on West 6th.”
>An exaggeration, to be sure, but you’re still looking forward to a pretty penny.
>You’re not even sure what you would spend all that money on, since you live alone and don’t have many hobbies.
>”Waaaa, dis new home?”
>You look down at the cage you brought home with you.
>The scruffy pink mare from today is inside of it.
>”That’s right, Sweetheart, this is your new home.”
>You put the cage down and let her out. She waddles around, marveling at everything she sees.
>She then runs up and hugs your legs.
>”Wuv new daddy!”
>Well, you can think of at least one thing you could spend it on…