Salvatore was busy eating...inside an empty classroom. What her lunch was: a pathetic MRE, courtesy of her military fanaticism. She could barely stomach the stuff; it wasn't that it was bad, quite the opposite. Actually, these were very good. The trouble was that they were completely bland and just used for nutrition. Even as a military nut, she couldn't stand it.
"Ooh, theese stuff...eet iz 'orrible!" Spitting out the last bite she took, her flat, almost concave stomach rumbled loudly. She patted it sadly. "Oui...we need to get some deecent food within you, my poor belly." Luckily, she knew a secret path to the kitchens no one had ever heard of. And slipping into a trapdoor below her, clutching her stomach, Salvatore began her little adventure for better food.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Opening up the other side of the passage, Salvatore climbed up into a highly restricted area of the school kitchens: the experimental room. Here, the most volatile foods and spices were kept, only to be used by master chefs like Mr. Champloo. The military girl crept in, her grumbling belly causing her intense pain.
"Oof, I need to find ze food pantry...ozzerwise, I may be considered dead!" she moaned. Picking up the nearest item off the shelf and tearing off the wrapping, she had no sense in checking what the label said before digging into her treat: a delicious and wonderful-looking egg, cheese, and sausage croissant, practically bursting with the innards. It was the size of her head, if not larger. Thick, gooey mozzarella cheese dripped from the center, enticing her to taste its meaty core. Her tongue scraped the cheese, licking off the smallest dab of the white fromage. Her mouth immediately exploded in scrumptious flavor, the smallest nibble throwing her mind into disarray.
"Eetz...eetz...perfect!" Salvatore exclaimed, scarfing down the rest. As her mouth wrapped around the bread, she was almost knocked out by the fluffiness and buttery bread. Chewing it rapidly, her teeth snapped down on the crisp, fat sausage slices, savoring the juiciness of it. The egg was cooked to perfection, not too yellow and not too solid, but not runny enough to leak out of the tasty breakfast dish. Before she knew it, she had already finished the entire treat, and was sitting down, licking her fingers and rubbing her slightly distended belly.
"Oo...too much of zis one...delicious...heavenly...croissant! I feel as if I am about to burst!" she said contentedly. Sighing, she tried to get up, but found it very painful to do so. "What iz zis? Am I too full?" Falling forward and landing painfully on her engorged gut, her eyes suddenly shrank, realizing with utter horror that....
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