"Wow. These are -"
The mirror was mocking him again. Every time he looked, his reflection would morph into something ghastly and horrific. Which was an excellent way of describing the current contents of his stomach. It took everything he had not to fall to the ground and writhe around like a grievously wounded insect. The sun shining through the window was all wrong. It should have been yellow, but it was bleeding and the world was on fire and the ground was shaking and nothing was right.
"Some really good -"
Now he was thinking of alternatives. Ways this might not have happened. How he could have avoided this dire scenario. It would have been so easy not to ask the questions whose answers were now embedded deeply in his head. Who would have guessed? He did. He did and now he couldn't escape it.
"Bean curd puffs."
Were there truly some things man was not meant to know? Once he might have laughed at the mere idea of that assertion, but now his brain was being scrambled and unscrambled and scrambled he couldn't. Help but think.
Bugs. Everywhere. Someone had to clean up the mess. Someone should get a mop and drop him in a bucket of soapy water so he could forget.
"Bean curd puffs? They're called tofu, Sokka -"
Now he was scrawling little whispers onto the ground. His comrades would see them soon, and then they would know. It was too late now. Soon their wails of pain would join his and they would be more lost souls cursed into the nightmarish oblivion of-
"Hey, Sokka! Why are you tracing random letters in the ground?"
Sokka stopped and glanced at the bald, grinning intruder who had invaded his sanctuary in the woods.
"I'M NOT HAVING A MENTAL BREAKDOWN OVER LEARNING THAT MY WHOLE LIFE HAS BEEN A LIE, OKAY AANG?!"
"What? No, they're bean curd puffs, I swear -"
"Are you still upset because you didn't know -"
"GET OUT!" Sokka screamed. "JUST GET OOOOUUUUT!"