Feeling the spaghetti start to wind its way around his ankles and go up inside his pants legs he shivers at the sensation. Oh, that's nasty... he thinks silently biting his tongue from saying anything else. He was totally determined not to eat that stuff off the floor.

"Would you eat it off the floor?" he asked quietly, lifting his eyebrow at her. Then wincing as another strand start slithering it's way around his knee, he knew he was being impertinent by asking that, and then thought after the fact, she'd probably lie anyway.

Gritting his teeth, he wondered how long either of them could hold out, would she get bored with it? Or would he cave with the disgusting feeling of these slimy spaghetti worms working their way up his legs.