Planeocracy

[Splat.  Push push push . . . splorch.  Shove shove . . . Jiggle jiggle.  Eurgh. 

What in Jugdral was this foul concoction and why did it wiggle on her plate?  Food was not supposed to wiggle unless it was crawling with maggots, in which case few people would be keen upon identifying the substance as 'food'.  Either way, she eyed the lemon jello with a great deal of suspicion before moving on to the rest of the assorted items she'd reluctantly taken.  In the bottom-left corner oozed a foreign brown pile of mush she had been assured was 'hamburger casserole in meat sauce' and not 'porcine waste product in pig-slop' as she had first assumed.  A few bits of green poking out from a sea of white sauce covered the majority of the rest of her plate.  Pasta alfredo, spotted with what she could only assume was a sort of herb.  Or mold.  It certainly had the right consistency for mold, anyway.  And in the far corner, exactly three slices of carrot -- accompanied by even more white sauce with more green flecks floating about in it.  This one, however, was completely liquid.  Good.  She had heard that bacteria was much more fond of growing on liquid substances than solid; she certainly didn't want to impede their progress.  After a few more moments of pushing her food around, Lachesis abruptly stood up to access her 'peedeeay'.]

[Vocal]
If I am forced to eat one more meal in this place, I shall have myself subjected to the amnesia ray immediately that I may live the rest of my life without laying eyes upon this 'hamburger casserole' or whatever fancy name they've labeled this slop again.  My servants wouldn't eat this poorly.  I'm quite fed up.  And to make matters worse, it's not even healthy; there appears a vast phobia in this place of anything remotely resembling a fruit or a vegetable.

I'll wager few of you have ever been treated to a fine banquet before.  The traditional celebration to herald mid-winter approaches in Jugdral.  It isn't a major holiday, by any means, but Nodion has always celebrated modestly with a good meal for all, regardless of whatever economic circumstances we may currently be under.  Should any of you are interested, you are all cordially invited to Nodion Castle, accessible quickly and easily through Gate FE4-1.  Though I had not planned to return home for the event, I've changed my mind.  You will all be my personal guests and treated with the finest service.  I shall inform the servants tonight and we shall dine on the morrow.

This is Agent Lachesis of Room 102.  Um.  That is all.

[the following is muted and unclear]
Well!  That felt terribly odd.  Talking into something like this and expecting it to be broadcast -- But I'm sure I've heard other messages before.  And I remember watching that man quite carefully; he just pressed this button on the side and began to speak.  That's all, isn't it?  I wonder if it went through?  . . . I suppose I'll suppose I'll know if anyone agrees to come.  Or perhaps I won't.  I can't say I've forged many friendships here at all.  But at the least . . . Sir Lyle and Lady Kusuha ought to respond.

 . . .

Why am I talking to myself?  . . .

More importantly, why are you still blinking?  Do stop that.  [bonk bonk bang]  No.  You're still doing it.  [boink]  And now I'm conversing with the peedeeay; I really have gone m