It was a day for noodles, so Veta embraced it.
She spent the morning cooking twelve packs of pasta, in various forms. Fusilli, spaghetti, linguini, lasagna, shells, penne…whatever she could find in the store. She mixed in a bit of oil to keep the individual noodles from sticking together.
Then, as was befitting, she loaded it all into a backpack and hit the road.
Veta had no altruistic intentions with her oodles of noodles. Instead she drove slowly, grabbing a handful at a time and tossing it at houses, landmarks, and a few people she didn’t like. No one was quick enough to video her; she would drive off in a hurry.
As the day neared its end, Veta still had a full bag of lasagna left. She stopped at a parking lot, got out, and slapped a noodle on every car she could. She left, just as people started to find her gifts.
Noodle Day was a success, once again.