Maka tightened her grip on soup. She searched around, looking for her finally kishin: the spoon murderer. Once she got his soul, all she needed was a stew witches, and her partner, soup eater, could become one of the grim Campbell's utensils. A gust of wind blew behind her back. She knew it was him; trying to attack. But she was one step ahead. Maka thrust soup right through spoon murderer's body. A shrill screaming came from him, and then he dissolved into the air, leaving only a glowing sphere behind. Her weapon flew out of her hands, transforming into a human boy. "Oh boy, that was really hard." Said soup arcastically, grabbing the soul and shoving it down his throat. "You really seem to like souls." Replied Maka. "What do they taste like anyways?" "Oh, nothing really." He said. "They taste like chicken noodle. But it's how they feel going down that makes them delicious."