That night we dined on pasta in the shape of buttocks. Less appetizing was the fact that Saul chose a chunky tomato paste.

"What's wrong with you, Saul? You're nasty," Maude piped up.

"Revolting" agreed Chad, who kept slurping it down anyway.

"You can't twist it on your fork like with spaghetti", I mentioned to Saul. He shrugged, and told me that next time he was opting for noodles in the shape of tiny noses.

"With the red sauce it'll look like nosebleeds," Saul said gleefully.

"I get those at high altitudes," sniffed Maude, unimpressed.

"Someone please pass the ass," requested Chad, with his mouth still full of butt-shaped macaroni. And that pretty much sums up the entire evening.