That's the best thing about spaghetti: the perfect food is more than just a taste sensation--it's a full physical and spiritual experience that leaves you satisfied on so many levels.

*scrape*

*twirl*

*shl-galumph*

Meditatively chewing another mouthful of pasta, Duo unearths a rare treasure from the canned meal. There it sits, surrounded by pink squishy strings.

One glorious, glistening meatball!

He gives silent thanks to whatever benevolent culinary spirits were responsible for this windfall before spearing it wih his fork. Um... at least he tries to puncture the sphere. It slips around the plate, a tiny *sproing* as it resists the dull metal tines again and again.

Growing frustrated, he grips the fork and brings it down in a fierce stabbing motion. His hand rebounds toward the ceiling while the meatball sails off the table.

*boink*

It ricochets off a cabinet and comes to a spinning stop on the floor.

It's still good. A little bit of dirt never hurt anybody. He pounces on the stubborn treat. It skitters across the kitchen tiles, picking up more grime and an occasional hair.

It's still good! Snarling, Duo scuttles after it. Round and round they go until an errant poke sends the meatball shooting underneath the refridgerator.

Desperately scrabbling at the appliance, he tries to shift it. I can see it-- I just can't get at it. It's still good!! Throwing back his head and reaching to the heavens in supplication with the one hand not trapped, he screams out a soul-wrenching "NO!"

A discrete cough from the doorway snags his attention. Springing up (and only slightly dislocating his shoulder), Duo spots the menacing quartet. Quatre steps forward with the saddest, most apologetic expression the American had ever seen.

"We've had a bit of a family meeting--"

"Team meeting," Wufei snaps.

Casting a beatific glance back, the blonde continues. "Yes, it seems there are a few items the others wish to have addressed. It has been brought to my attention there exist certain--how shall I put it?--imbalances in the current financial situation."

Wrinkling his brow in cute confusion, Duo tries to decipher the accusation.

"It's simple, Maxwell. You're eating us out of house and home without even attempting to pay."

"You're a complete and utter load, Duo."

"Stop mooching off Quatre," Trowa levels, his one visible eye narrowing dangerously.

Duo spreads his hands in a placating gesture. "If you all feel like that, I'll just go get some cash and it'll all be square. 'Kay?"

With a heartfelt sigh, Quatre sinks into a chair. Trowa takes up a protective station behind him. "It's not that simple. We've already levied your bank accounts and that barely begins to cover the tab. You need to get a job. I figure you can just about manage a paper-route."

"That's crazy talk, man. I can do the clock-punching, but Shinigami don't sling no print. The God of Death does not do mornings."

Heero picks up the forgotten plate and stalks over to the sink. "Then Shinigami does not eat." Tipping in the spaghetti, he pulls a switch out of his spandex. He presses a red button and, with a sadistic smirk, activates the garbage disposal. Over the grinding motor and rushing water comes an anguished cry:

"Sketti!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Sobbing, an inconsolable heap shuffles to reclaim a single fragment of the once overflowing feast. "What did it ever do to you?" he asks, petting the limp strand.

"There's more to life than pasta, Maxwell."

"Blaspheme!" Duo gasps in horror. "It is the very essence of life. So firm, yet yielding. Succulent and versatile.

"They say you are merely a vehicle for sauce, my friend," he whispers. "No, you are so much more, darling." Duo coils the tiny remnant in his palm, tenderly caressing it.

"Be that as it may, you won't be allowed any more until you can repay us through legal means. And no handouts, Winner," Wufei warns. Quatre guiltily mutters "he's just too cute to let starve."

"I wanted to throw you out," Fei-chan grumbles as he stomps away to his room. Trowa winces when they hear a door slam. "Why does he have to ruin the hinges like that? I just refitted them the other day."

Squaring his shoulders, Duo makes a decision. "I will survive--even if it means work!"

"Good for you," Quatre affirms. "Play to your strengths and you'll come up on top."

*slurp*

"Duo!" three voices chorus.

Licking the last bit of tomato sauce from his hand, he grins. "You don't expect somebody to go job-hunting on an empty stomach, do ya? Hey, do we have any straws? Maybe I can link 'em and suction that meatball out..."

Please continue to Part Two or e-mail the author with questions or comments.