>young and poor
>intelligent but too poor to even hope for college
>one day my mom stumbles across a great recipe for pasta sauce and opens up her own restaurant
>not a lot of business but enough to live decent and save up money for my post-seconday education
>now
>be 21
>first day of college
>late as fuck
>run and tumble down stairs
>scream at mom to make a lunch and put it in my bag
>remember I forgot to buy my own bag so I use her rolling backpack instead
>clean up and rush out of the door
>didn't really clean up just remembered to put on pants
>don't have time to roll mom's backpack to school
>haul it in my arms across 20 blocks
>too fucking overweight for this shit
>still manage to arrive on campus in time to find my first class
>turn around the corner of front office
>"OOMPF"
>hit a fucking brick wall
>backpack falls and rolls away spilling contents
>who the fuck puts a wall right around a cor-
>not a brick wall
>qt 3.14 sophomore grill
>her papers flew out all over the floor as well
>we help each other pick up the pieces
>"S-sorry, I was in a rush!"
>so flustered and tired from running I can't bother to look her in the face
>hand her a random folder
>she opens it to check contents and spaghetti spangdangles all over her
>"W-WHAT IS THIS?!"
>shit
>mom gave me crappy spaghetti leftovers for lunch again
>she knows how fucking much I hate that after living off of it for 15+ years
>still short of breath
>wheezing like that cripple from Malcolm in the Middle
>"That...must... b-be.... my lunch... my mom... made... me..."
>she is unsatisfied by my stark and seemingly autistic reply
>"And it's inside your fucking folder?!"
>"Well... it... /was/... in my... folder..."
>she is now pissed and as red as the sauce on her face
>she looks away from me
>hurriedly tries to pick up the rest of her papers and stands up
>slips on noodles and sauce crashing to the floor
>she lets out an exasperated howl
>anxious and wheezing I try to make things right and help her up like a gentleman
>palms are sweaty
>knees weak
>arms are heavy
>lose grip on mom's spaghetti
>I too slip on noodles and sauce crashing onto her
>all of my obesity crushes her
>she coughs up blood under a pained shriek
>shit shit shit shit
>what do I do
>think fast and
>starfish onto the floor and begin making spaghetti angel
>she rolls over gasping for air in between her coughing to death
>"H-elp anon, take me to the fucking infirmary you obese shit!"
>first of all that's not how you ask for help
>secondly there there's no fucking way I can do that
>they'll know it was me and think I assaulted her while skipping class
>continue to make angel in hope one will simmer down and save me
>she gets the idea and rolls her way across campus leaving a trail of spaghetti
>I pick up my bag and stuff as much of the spaghetti back into it as possible
>hide it in nearby open locker
>I decide to spend the rest of my school day at Chuck E. Cheese's
>ask to be seated to a table
>forget I am covered in spaghetti
host says he can't seat me like that
>tell him it's my 21st birthday and plead to him
>he gives in
>still says that I'm too fucking old to be in here anyway
>he is damn right but only if he knew my predicament
>waitress comes up later with the pizza I ordered
>she looks me over and smiles like nothing's wrong
>"Hehe, I guess you're having a wild 21st birtday, huh?"
"Y-yeah, my friends dumped a cake on me, haha"
>"Isn't that pasta sauce and noodles though?"
>shit
>it is
>"W-well yeah, they dumped lasagna on me"
>"You said it was a cake..."
>look bitch lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake
>holy shit it is
>tell her that as a joke to lighten up the mood
>she looks at me like Chuck E. just gave birth to an autistic rat
>"Then I guess this pizza is just a spaghetti flavored pie, weirdass"
>she slams pizza down and leaves
>that doesn't even make sense though
>pizza and spaghetti have different tastes
>decide I've overstayed my welcome and leave without eating pizza
>make to exit
>go back to shove the pizza into my shirt
>trek 20 blocks back home
>play videogames and watch TV until the late afternoon
>still haven't bathed or changed clothes but
>browse past news channel
>oh hey it's mom's restaurant
>police cars surrounding the whole bulding
>what the fuck is going on
>police are dragging my mother out kicking and screaming
>"this just in local news, local pasta restaurant owner being charged with assault of a college sophomore"
>"near the crime scene was the suspect's rolling backpack filled with her famous spaghetti, sources say"
>"victim is being hospitalized after falling unconcious at the campus infirmary"
>panic into a frenzy
>my mom's going to jail
>but that's the problem
>if grill wakes up and tells police what happened, I'm fucked
>now I have to assasinate her
>how the fuck do I do that
>I guess I'm just belly flop her again until she's dead
>but wait I don't have to
>"this recent update, the victim has passed away due to internal ruptures and other damages"
>whew
>who new my obesity would come in handy
>but now what do I do
>I have to live all on my own while my mom rots away in jail for a crime she didn't commit
>realize I am still covered in the spaghetti that started all of this fucking mess
>I told her
>"I'm tired of having spaghetti everyday, mom"
>but did she listen?
>no
>"It's this spaghetti that has given us a better life, anon"
>well now it's this spaghetti that has ruined ours and taken the life of another
