Once upon a time, a small bowl of dried noodles called Paldo. Paldo was born in the suburbs of Seoul, in Korea at an unspecified date. He had a difficult childhood and in particular because his friends mocked its aroma of shrimp. Paldo MOM had done everything to make it happy, telling him that it was delicious and that a day will come when he would fill of happiness a stomach. Paldo included the words of his mother, but this was not. He lived in black emotions, and was still looking for his reason for living.
One day, he was chosen and put in a box. This moment was the starting point of his adventure. Paldo spoke Korean, Chinese, Spanish and English, which opened the door to many countries. He chose to cross the Atlantic, to get more specifically in a small market in the suburbs of West Palm Beach. As he was not only traveling, it was faced with its congeners of travel. Thereof, any happy to finally be able to see the country and make the meeting of their master. Paldo knew well that it wasn’t what he wanted, but he could not talk about it.
One day, a hapless chose him among its congeners. For the huge sum of $1.27, he had the privilege to bring Paldo in his house, or more precisely in the pantry of a boat. This man care to store it carefully, revelling chops by imagining the day where it dégusterait Paldo. Then he forgot the existence of Paldo. The days, weeks and years have passed. Paldo, him, boiling with anticipation of finally accomplish the evil plan that he had concocted, but it did not give him this chance. Then, this force of evil grew in him with each day that passed.
Then one day where the ship had put to sea, when it was night and the sea was rough, the man returned, open the pantry door and examined Paldo. He was looking at whether there’s an expiration date, but as he had none, he decided to go ahead with the ceremony that Paldo had waited all his life. First, the man opened the lid. He noticed that he had a slight tear, but after inspection of the content, determined that no insect had been to lay its eggs in pasta. Indeed, the pasta on a boat have the annoying habit of developing larvae. They dig a small niche and feasts from time to time of a bite out of their cocoon. It finds them pretty easily, but the show is never ragoutant.
Paldo knew that if the larvae had the grip on him, his revenge could not be unleashed. He would have finished just in the trash. No, it wasn’t an option then he endeavoured to go a little more rancid every day what away any insect that is would be approached too closely.
The man the bag into the belly of Paldo, opened it and placed the content on pasta. He noticed a slight odor of become rancid, and texture of the contents of the bag which was rather mushy lumpy instead of a powder, but who was to judge the quality of this dish? Experts had decided that this dish could be good all the time, so it was perhaps not a problem, but a guarantee of a high quality product?
Pablo felt heat invading it. It was his moment of happiness. That he had waited all his life. All these trips and all this wait will not vein. Finally, its Machiavellian plan will be implemented in all its splendor. Paldo had enough bowls of normal soups, aspiring simply to comfort and satisfy. Paldo was different, he could achieve its aims without rules or law. He had never been told that he could aspire to eternal life, but Paldo knew that this was his desire. Why do pleasure to others when you can grow at the expense of others? Certainly, others had nothing understood and Paldo would demonstrate them.
In the space of a few minutes, Paldo was ingested and it was only a few hours later that the poor unfortunate realized the magnitude of his error. The taste of goes rancid went up his bowels until her mouth and it persisted, even after applying a generous layer of fluorine. It was to point is pronounced that she resisted for whole days and gave a taste of goes rancid to any other piece of food. Paldo was happy because thanks to his ingenuity, he would not be forgotten anytime soon. But to gain eternal life, should return to the State of the sea soup… And well, it was something made by the more agonizing path for our man. Regurgitation would have been so simple, so easy. But Paldo had decided otherwise. He was quick to incorporate the intestines to avoid stomach contractions. What a joy to enjoy this evil that can inflict on a person. But, like all good things come to an end, it was time for him to return to his form of soup and to evacuate this existence, this boat. Therefore, I reviewed Paldo after a few dozen hours take the wide path.
Paldo plan had been a total success. Now, when you will contemplate the ocean, you can have a thought for Paldo, the small bowl of soup.