Milly’s Grandpa always told her to stay away from “Pasta Fish’m” people.
“Always be wary of God Damned Pasta Fishes girl. They’ll come to yer house and tell ya all about being a pastifish and how their peace will end the world’s problems. They’ll try to drag yer into their pasta fish ways. But let me ask yer something. When the second world war came about, was it them pastafish’s who saved the day? No, It was the good ol’ Allies, bless our souls. No goody pastafish will fend of der Nazis and the like. Pastafish’s are leeches, let me tell you. They eat up all us good folk’s food and take all our lumber, and when the time comes to fight fer these good’for nothins they’ve got the er’dacity to be telling it’s wrong. Hah! Pasta fish wouldn’t last one minute in the world if we didn’t fight for them.”
…Milly didn’t understand him either, but she took his vague words to heart and never joined any Pasta Fish religions. She always made note to ask her friends if they were pasta fishes before inviting them over from school. And she never had pasta and fish together, to show her love for her Grandpa.
I have no idea why I wrote this. I just needed a post and didn’t feel like working hard on a short story.