(ON HIATUS) Execute Order Sixty-Soup: A Crack Fanfiction!

Chapter One: Execute Order Sixty-Soup

I'm not sure whether I love or hate this... probably the latter. I still published it though. 😂

❖❖❖

Hunter was gifted with powerful senses that served Clone Force 99 well on the battlefield, but there was one thing that he couldn't sense sooner than Crosshair.

Soup.

He could smell it from a parsec away. The word alone could send a tingle up his spine. That wondrous mushy masterpiece that they served in Kamino's mess hall. The beautiful stirred substance that warmed and excited his tastebuds every time he brought the fork to his lips. 

It was the one thing that brought him joy more than his rifle and toothpicks. Nothing in his life mattered more to him than soup. Nothing could even come close. 

He could remember so clearly the first day he tried it. After the first week of training with his ridiculous new comrades, Crosshair was forced to hit the mess hall to regenerate. Though he first saw lunch as a chore, the menu had some alterations he wasn't aware of. Little did he know on that day, he would never be the same once he took a slurp of the most wonderful meal.

When he and his brothers were seated away from the rest of the clones, he hesitantly looked at the steaming bowl of soup, unsure of what to do with it. He retrieved a utensil from the countertop after he was given his lunch, but he came to the mess hall with no intention of eating anything. All the food he tried so far was garbage.

His annoying brainiac brother, Tech, found every opportunity to question his choices. He pointed to the fork. "You know it'd be easier to consume a substance of that consistency with a spoon, right?" 

Crosshair didn't respond, nor did he look up from the soup. Food was still a foreign thing to him, for he was like a baby taking his first steps. However, there was something about this lunch that seized his attention. The steam from the soup floated onto his face in a cloud of mystifying wonder. The call of the warm meal was drawing him to it in a supernatural way that he couldn't understand. He drew his fork like a gallant sword, dipping it gently into the bowl.

Wrecker laughed voraciously. "Ha! Guess you're a picky eater, aren't you Crossie?" 

Lula was suddenly shoved in Crosshair's face, and before he knew it, he was being mauled by that godforsaken stuffed toy. Crosshair swatted at Wrecker's advances like a Loth cat and snapped at him. "Quit it!"

"Well then eat your lunch! Or else I will!"

Wrecker had already finished his meal like the goliath he was. It was sickening to Crosshair. How could one have such low culinary standards? 

Tech interjected with another thesis. "In all seriousness, Crosshair, the food in this facility contains the proper nutrients that sustain the homeostasis within an individual. Surely you can—"

"NO," Crosshair hissed.

"Crosshair, just try it." Hunter rebuked. "If you don't like it, give it to Wrecker."

Hunter was the most tolerable out of the three, but no amount of convincing could've made Crosshair enthusiastic at that moment. With a scowl, he stirred the soup and spat the word "fine."

He cautiously dipped the fork in the substance and began to lift it closer and closer to his face. The fork's design had short enough prongs to where the utensil could contain about a teaspoon of soup. Bracing himself for a major disappointment, he watched Wrecker's crazy expression as he put the utensil in his mouth. 

"Must you stare while I eat?" he complained, but then...

THE WORLD SHOOK.

His tastebuds began to flourish with a sensation he'd never believed would bless his existence. The broth's flavor was so... so... indescribable in words! And the lumps! Oh, the peculiar lumps of unidentified edible matter in the soup had a texture of pure magnificence.