[Setting: A Casual Fast-Food Joint, Midday]

Elliot sits in a fluorescently lit booth, unwrapping a suspiciously soggy burger. The smell of grease and overcooked fries fills the air. Around him, people chew absentmindedly, scrolling on their phones or staring into space.

As Elliot lifts a limp fry to his mouth, a familiar voice cuts through the hum of the restaurant.

God of Coincidence (cheerfully, sliding into the booth across from Elliot): “Ah, lunch! The great equalizer!”

Elliot (dropping his fry, startled): “You’ve got to stop showing up like this.”

God of Coincidence (grinning, stealing a fry from Elliot’s tray): “Impossible. I’m drawn to you, Elliot. Like ketchup to fries. Or—dare I say it—chaos to opportunity.”

Elliot (rubbing his temples): “Can’t I eat one meal without it becoming a philosophical debate?”

God of Coincidence (leaning forward, stealing another fry): “But Elliot, lunch is a philosophical debate. Take this fry, for instance. Is it truly ‘yours’ once it’s on the tray? Or does it only belong to you once you eat it? Ownership is a fluid concept, my friend.”

Before Elliot can groan in protest, a figure in a bright red polo and matching hat bursts through the door, holding an insulated pizza bag.

Pizza Guy (calling out, confused): “Uh, pizza delivery? For… table five?”

Elliot and the God of Coincidence both turn to look at the perplexed pizza guy.

Elliot (raising an eyebrow): “This is a burger joint. Why are you delivering pizza here?”

Pizza Guy (shrugging, flipping open a receipt): “Hey, man, I don’t make the rules. I just follow the address. Table five, it says. You table five?”

God of Coincidence (nodding solemnly): “Indeed, we are. And wouldn’t you know it, I’ve been craving pizza all day. How fortuitous.”

Elliot (glaring at the GOC): “Of course you have.”

Pizza Guy (warily placing the box on the table): “I dunno what’s going on here, but this is the weirdest drop-off I’ve ever had.”

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God of Coincidence (beaming): “Oh, my dear delivery friend, life itself is a series of weird drop-offs. Speaking of which—would you care to join us for a tale of hunger, ownership, and the occasional pebble?”

Pizza Guy (hesitating, then sitting down with a sigh): “Sure. Why not. This day can’t get any weirder.”

The Tale of the Cosmic Lunchbox (with Extra Cheese)

God of Coincidence (gesturing grandly, much to Elliot’s dismay):

“Let me tell you a story. Once, there was a king—King Mordeau of the Everhungry Plains. A man known far and wide for his insatiable appetite and peculiar rules about food. He had one law above all others: any food placed in his golden lunchbox became his. No questions asked.”

Pizza Guy (interested despite himself): “Golden lunchbox, huh? Sounds classy.”

Elliot (deadpan): “Don’t encourage him.”

God of Coincidence (ignoring Elliot):

“One day, a wandering bard arrived at the king’s court with nothing but a stale loaf of bread, a single pickle, and a dream. The bard claimed he could teach the king a lesson about hunger. Intrigued, the king invited him to share a meal.

The bard placed his humble offerings into the golden lunchbox, knowing full well they now belonged to the king. But then, the bard added a twist: he placed a single, unassuming pebble in the lunchbox as well.”

Pizza Guy (tilting his head): “Why a pebble?”

God of Coincidence (grinning): “To teach the king that not all food is food. And thus began the Great Feast Debate, which lasted seven days and seven nights. Scholars argued, nobles bickered, and the royal chef quit twice—until finally, the king declared that all things, edible or not, could be food under the right circumstances.”

Elliot (sarcastically): “So… he ate the pebble?”

God of Coincidence (laughing): “Oh no, the bard ate the pebble. Out of spite, I think. But the king, shaken by the experience, declared a new law: no food could enter the lunchbox unless it was unanimously agreed to be edible. And wouldn’t you know it? The first thing they tested was pineapple on pizza.”

The Fallout

Pizza Guy (squinting at the GOC): “Wait. Pineapple on pizza? Is that… some kind of metaphor?”

Elliot (snatching a slice of pizza): “Don’t try to make sense of it. That way lies madness.”

As Elliot bites into the pizza, a nearby table erupts in chaos. A toddler grabs their parent’s milkshake, sending it flying—directly into the Pizza Guy’s lap.

Pizza Guy (leaping up, dripping with vanilla shake): “What the—”

God of Coincidence (smirking): “Ah, milkshakes—the great neutralizer. You’ve just been baptized into the divine chaos of lunch, my friend.”

Elliot (groaning): “This is why we can’t have nice things.”

Pizza Guy (grabbing napkins, glaring at the GOC): “You planned this, didn’t you?”

God of Coincidence (winking): “Oh, my dear friend. I didn’t plan it. I merely allowed it to happen.”

As the Pizza Guy storms out, Elliot turns to the GOC, his face a mixture of frustration and reluctant amusement.

Elliot (pointing a finger): “You’re the worst lunch companion ever.”

God of Coincidence (leaning back, arms wide): “And yet, you keep inviting me. Coincidence? Or fate?”

[End Scene]