Azazel looked back to find a statuesque Butterknife, the only thing different was a watery film covering his eyes. The sight tugged at Azazel's heartstrings for less than a second before clearing his mind of emotion. He had put Butterknife down before, why was this a breaking point for him? Whatever the case was, Azazel needed to lasso him back into a sense of security, lest he take a risk that could jeopardize his plan. "Butterknife?" He asked in a tone not unlike how one would talk to a small child. Again waiting for a response, and again not receiving one, he decided to keep pushing. "You alright?" Azazel was reassured when he heard a response. "N-no..." Okay, onto the next step. "You wanna go get a milkshake?" Waiting for another response, he was not disappointed when he heard exactly what he expected. "No..." This was a walk in the park for Azazel, persuasion was no easy task against any brain with three working brain cells, but Butterknife was a special case. "You wanna play video games?" He asked, getting the appropriate response. "No..." And now, for the grand finale, the slam dunk. "Do you wanna...make us some sandwiches?" Butterknife perked up quite a bit at the suggestion, any chance to make a sandwich for his best friend in the whole wide world was a welcome opportunity!
 
Heading into the kitchen, Butterknife began to get into the zone, remembering the locations of the several tools and ingredients he would need to make more masterpieces. The level of concentration in the air rivalled a neurosurgery room. What kind would he make for Azazel, though? Should it have mayo? Should it have lettuce? Maybe go back to his roots and do a classic peanut butter & jelly? He contemplated for a moment, and decided to pick option d; all of the above.
 
What was taking Butterknife so long? Not that it had actually been that long, it was just that he was an absolute pro at sandwich making, even Azazel had to admit that. And it seemed as if Butterknife heard his thoughts as he trotted through the kitchen walkway with a tray held in his mouth. Azazel noticed one strange thing about the picture; one sandwich looked particularly disgusting. Maybe his tastes were a bit exotic, Azazel thought. It was more disconcerting as Butterknife sat the plate down in a way that suggested it was made for him. He inspected the sandwich now that it was closer to him, made of white bread, baked beans, egg, cheese, lettuce, mayonnaise, and tofu. Did Butterknife really expect him to eat this? It was made even clearer as Butterknife picked up the much more plain-looking sandwich and proceeded to take a bite.
 
"Butterknife?" Azazel said, looking quizzically at his source of inference. "Hmm?" He replied, mouth full. "What is this made of?" A lilt of curiosity loomed in his mind. Butterknife began listing ingredients, half of them didn't sound like something that should go in a sandwich, and some of those didn't sound edible. "Are you allergic to anything? I'll make you another if-" "No." Azazel cut him off. As much as he wanted to lie, he felt an urge not to. The only time he felt the same was near a mare in kindergarten. It was a confusing, intense happiness mixed with contentment. "It's not that, it's just that it looks a bit strange." He heard a much more assuring response this time. "Just tryyy iiiit, i promise it'll be good!" Butterknife whined. Azazel hesitated for a moment before taking a small bite out of the abomination before him.