Hourly Challenge: Round

a/n: Ma-non struggle to contain their genius sometimes.

All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, including the swear.

"Listen, okay? Just ... just listen!" The small alien was trying to get his comrades' attention, but they were totally focused on slurping wedges of cheesy perfection into their narrow snouts. "LISTEN!" he finally shouted, pulling one slice out of the rapturous face of his neighbor.

This was a social faux-pas of galactic proportions. The table fell silent, utterly aghast. In the shocked hush, one guest could be heard quietly singing to himself as he chewed. Eyes closed, he squeaked out, "We're the Ma-non and we love love love some pizza." His neighbor nudged him and he sat up. A rusty blush swept his ears. "What's up?"

"Pfeffen is being an an an asscave, okay?" A lettuce green alien, the victim of the pizza-napping, adjusted her goggles and sighed. Then she grabbed another slice. "Go on Pfeffen," May May said resignedly. "Get it off your chest. We don't eat with our ears, right?"

Pfeffen began his lament. "We promised to deliver a new technology to BLADE HQ tomorrow."

"Not really, I think?" May May replied, chewing thoughtfully. "You promised, or Candid & Credible did. I don't remember making any promises."

"You all are the R&D consultants."

"So we consult. We don't promise."

"And we definitely don't deliver," muttered the no-longer singing Ma-non, Aganeba. "That's for Army Pizzeria to do."

May May ignored the interuption. "That whole thing is Tutura's problem, not ours."

Pfeffen tugged his nose. "Look, we don't need to give them a finished product, okay? Just something that sounds fantastic and possibly believable. A mock-up with a little glitter. I can get it done in an hour."

"Easy, then. No sweat," May May said calmly.

"Except we don't even have a concept, remember? Not even a thing we can add to to to a skell!"

"Pizza oven," suggested Aganeba. "Except maybe not so much oven as cold cooking process I think?"

"No. That didn't go over at at at all well the last time we suggested it. Or the time before. Or the time..."

"Okay, we got it, okay? No pizza oven in the skell," May May said.

The table was silent again, save for the continued chewing. Finally, the only Ma-non not to speak, Jeshero, said quietly, "Pizzas don't have to be round, did you know that?"

"So?"

"So we could investigate new ways of making them."

"If the humans already know how to make, what, square ones, then I don't think BLADE will pay us for suggesting it."

"They know about rectangular ones too. Personally, I'd love to switch to something that could more efficiently tile the plane, if you get what I mean?"

Pfeffen was tugging his nose in earnest now. "Hexagonal or Penrose, this isn't solving our problem in in in the slightest."

May May sat up straight. "What if the pizza wasn't on a plane?"

Jeshero stopped chewing and stared at her. "You mean...?

"What if we had it in 3d space? Curved? Wrapped? Spiraling?"

"Skell shaped!" continued Jeshero enthusiastically.

"NO! No more combining skells and pizzas!" shouted Pfeffen.

"Yes!" May May shouted back. "That's exactly the prototype you're banging on on on about. We make a sort of 3-d printer but it's an oven."

Pfeffen stared in horror. Then his ears perked up and he jumped onto his toes. "A 3-d smelter for skells, make them custom, with toppings and crust, I mean, weapons and armor, hot and just they way they like it! Fantastic!"

"Exactly!" May May said, clapping her hands enthusiastically. The R&D consulting party needed two additional delivery orders to finish brainstorming the details, but they had earned it, okay?

a/n: Aganeba is singing the lyrics my house wrote for the daytime Ma-non ship music. What. A. Bop.