The Man directed my wrath towards yet another insolent wretch. He was the one known as "Omega", a figure of some reknown, one who gathered tomes of knowledge to archive in digital format. I hesitated, perhaps, to strike down a scholar, but the Man's orders must be obeyed. It will surely prove to have been for the best. Most likely this Omega preached falsehoods that slandered the Man.
It was a cool winter's evening. I gazed to the industrial complex which my target's footsteps, still fresh in the soft snow, ceased at. As I paused to gather myself and ready for the strike, a single blossom of the west fell from a tree above. Such a rarity within this season of frost was sure to be a sign of success. With that, I strode forward and opened the door.
Above, on a catwalk, he stood, gazing at the various abandoned machinery. There were conveyor belts, processors, and empty cans everywhere. He was furiously eating something out of one. I gave out a fierce shout to draw his attention.
He turned to me, shoveling what appeared to be some kind of noodles into his mouth with a fork. "You okay? Step on a pin or something?"
"Silence! Scholar Omega, by mandate of your Lord and Master, I demand you stand fast for execution!" With that I was scaling the stairwell, until I was just feet away from him. The wretch finished his meal, before reaching into his coat's pocket and hurling a veritable typhoon of cans at me, with a cry of "THANK GOODNESS FOR CHEF BOYARDEE!"
I stumbled over a can, and the target turned to flee. Pursuing him, he continued to babble about this strange cook. Ahead of us, the catwalk turned sharply to the left. I put on a burst of speed, but another can fell from this lunatic's hand and my foot stepped on it. Good fortune was not with me that day. Tripping forward, I shoved out with my hands and caught his back, sending him hurtling over the catwalk and directly into one of the food processors.
I...do not believe that the machine was originally intended for such large portions, but it did an admirable joke regardless. A fitting fate- turned into the very product of the chef he loved. I suppose that it does not take much to snap the mind of a man, but...I cannot help but wonder about this "Chef Boyardee."
I recall seeing some of those cans at the local grocery store. I will obtain "Joseph's" leave to investigate further.