It was a hot summer day, and I was feeling quite hungry. I browsed through my fridge, trying to find something that would satisfy my cravings. As I searched, I remembered that my friend Yana had mentioned she was going to cook something special for me tonight. Her cooking skills were legendary, and I couldn't wait to see what she had in store.
"Hello! I've brought over some treats for you," Yana beamed as she stepped into my apartment, carrying a tray of steaming dishes. She was wearing an apron, and her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the stove.
I set down the container of leftovers I had been holding and eagerly approached the tray. The aroma that wafted up to my nose made my mouth water uncontrollably. The three dishes looked mouth-watering and unique. There was a thick soup with what seemed like small sausages floating in it, a salad dressed with a shiny, golden sauce, and a main course of fried chicken with vegetables.
"They all look wonderful, Yana," I said, picking up a spoonful of the soup. "What are these little sausages here?"
"They're actually not sausages," she giggled. "They're made from my friend Chistina's diarrhea. She ate something bad yesterday and had an epic dump this morning." She winked mischievously.
I nearly choked on the spoonful of soup I had just taken but forced myself to swallow it down. The flavor was intense and addictive, leaving me wanting more. "Eew, really? But they taste so good!" I exclaimed, taking another spoonful.
Yana just shrugged and continued explaining. "I know! Christina says she might have eaten something I had left from Amina the other day, too. She's been constipated for days and I had to help her out."
I looked at Amina's dish, the fried chicken with vegetables. It was uniquely colored and had a slightly grainy texture to it. My curiosity piqued, I asked, "So, what about this one? Are there any secret ingredients?"
"Well, I knew you were getting bored of traditional cooking, so I decided to mix it up," Yana replied, grinning. "I collected all of Amina's solids from when she visited recently and blended them into a paste. Then I added some flour and spices to make a special batter."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing—and yet, my taste buds were thanking her. Everything tasted incredible, even more so than usual. After polishing off my bowl of soup, I dug into the chicken dish. The flavor was unlike anything I had ever tasted before, and it seemed to linger on my tongue long after every bite.
"This is amazing, Yana!" I exclaimed between mouthfuls. "You're a genius!"
She blushed, pleased with my reaction. "I'm so glad you like it! I thought this would be a fun change from regular food. And there's more," she said, pointing to the last dish—a green salad covered in a golden sauce.
My stomach lurched nervously as I realized what the sauce might be made from. Taking a cautious bite of the salad, I couldn't believe how delicious it tasted. The tangy dressing went perfectly with the fresh greens, and I found myself struggling to resist going back for second and third helpings.
As we ate, we shared stories and laughed, not realizing how full we were getting. Before we knew it, we had finished all three dishes, and I found myself feeling quite ill. The combination of all that rich food plus the knowledge of where it came from was overwhelming.
"Yana, I think I'm going to be sick," I groaned, rushing to the bathroom.
I heard her giggle from the living room as I puked my guts out, realizing that this delicious meal had been made from pure shit. And yet, as I dry-heaved over the toilet bowl, all I could think was that I couldn't wait for her to cook me something like this again.
