“Ew not that stuff again?” Don yelled. 

Don was my friend’s friend… not mine. As I grabbed a piece of bread and another cup of marmite. He watched me, and he faked a gag as he always did at lunch.

“It looks like poop.” he said. At this point I was pissed, so I grabbed my jar of marmite, stood up, and dumped it over his ugly, stuck up, and annoying face. 

“Are you mad?” I asked with a grin. He rubbed his finger against his face and into his mouth.

“No,”He said, “I like marmite.”