ramonNoodles

"but 4real yall, ramon noodles tast way better with a little crab meat in it, trust me"

Ramón Noodles is greatly successful in his career of choice as a taste-tester. The rest of his siblings had come to be only mildly successful chefs, but Ramón...

Ramón was different.

His family worries for his safety, through, as Ramón plans to go freelance soon, to taste only for the especially wealthy. The only motivation for someone of that status to hire a taste-tester, everyone knew, was to see if the food was poisoned. None of them would need critique. They already have the world's most esteemed chefs--- not that his family would get it. Ramón does understand the risks involved, though, and hopes he can benefit his family with the money he earns.

For a scant few weeks, he does do well. He earns more than his friends have in their lifetimes with his risky commisions. People like Ramón are in very high demand, you see. They enter the industry quickly, and the leave even more abrubtly.

Ramón was no different.

After the incident, his family mourned for months before his father, Fry D. Noodles, gathered the courage to examine Ramón's house. Luckily, it was not yet resold. Ramón's family was in a bad way without his support, and Fry was pushed to check around for valuable personal effects and his final will. What he found was appalling. The walls were stained, blood--- no, tomato sauce. They were the scribblings of a madman. It all formed into a web: at the centre there was a large crate full of cash, and on the ends were portraits-in-red of his family members.

Ramón had struggled, since elevating his career through this level, to determine how to spread his fortune once he had met his demise. For he understood his demise was inevitable, he began the moment his first pay arrove--- and it drove him past the edge. Lain haphazardly on the nailed box of money was a note, dated the day of his death. "I can't do this," it admitted in his stead using a hardly-legible scrawl, "and so I won't". The bulk of the page was empty, but several lines down there was another sentence: "So, you figure it out."

Ramón poisoned his own food later that day.