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Before Ulrich realized there was nothing he could do to get Adler to be less like himself, he made several attempts to befriend the man. Attempts being the keyword here.
It’s said that when you listen closely on the sixth floor, you can still hear the shrill tone of Ulrich’s voice module giving out, unable to output a response to the sheer audacity. Of course, you can still hear this sound on occasion. Followed closely by the engineering department frothing at the mouth. In rage or anticipation of a challenge, no one can say.
You would think after Ulrich’s first disastrous attempt at friendship, he would leave well enough alone, but that is not how progress is made. All science is a process of failure!
So it was that Ulrich set forth early in the morning, a cup of coffee in hand. Surely Adler will have no reason to reject a perfectly serviceable cup of coffee. Such would be madness!
And Lo, Adler actually looked up when Ulrich placed the cup on an empty space on his desk, just between a half filled crossword puzzle and a paper covered in what may generously be called math.
Adler took one look at the cup, grimaced, and opened a drawer to pull out a container of sugar he must’ve stolen from the cafeteria. He proceeded to upend the container and let sugar stream into the cup for five seconds.
“Is…” Ulrich took a moment to process what he was seeing, “Is that how you normally drink your coffee?”
“Of course,” Adler said, taking a sip of his heart-attack-in-a-cup.
The ferrofluid spun in a circle inside the glass tank, much like a loading screen. Then, Ulrich settled.
“I see.”
***
Adler looked up. A chocolate mousse cake greeted him.
Some sort of crushed nut was sprinkled atop the chocolate ganache, which dripped over the side and pooled on the plate, leaving a scant few strips where the soft mousse peaked through.
Ah, the chocolate cake itself must’ve been brushed down with some sort of syrup. Plain sugar, most like, resulting in something unbelievably soft and indulgent.
Creamy mousse, decadent ganache, rich cake, all melting together like a chocolate bar in one’s hand.
Delicious.
Adler’s fork clinked against porcelain.
Forlornly, Adler stared at the empty plate. Sad was the only way to describe him at this moment. All for a lack of cake.
Ulrich brought him another plate the next day; not a mousse cake, but a slice of cherry pie topped with vanilla ice cream. Days followed, broken up by sachertorte and brigadeiro, petit fours and baklava.
Some days had no delights.
A few had tragedies, followed by indulgence marred by an excess of salt.
No days did Adler not light up when presented with confections.
***
Adler looked up from the stack of papers he was trying in vain to work through, Sisyphus at his finest. A chocolate mousse cake greeted him.
Some sort of crushed nut was sprinkled atop the chocolate ganache, which dripped over the side and pooled on the plate, leaving a scant few strips where the soft mousse peaked through. The crushed nuts formed the number 29, taking up the majority of the surface area on the large cake.
Ah, the chocolate cake itself must’ve been brushed down with some sort of syrup. Plain sugar, most like, resulting in something unbelievably soft and indulgent.
Creamy mousse, decadent ganache, rich cake, all melting together like a chocolate bar in one’s hand.
Delicious- where is it.
Adler looked up to find Ulrich, still in the same spot in front of his desk, but now he had reclaimed the remaining cake. A lot of cake, mind you.
“Happy birthday, Adler,” Ulrich slowly swirled within his tank, almost lazy, “For your own sake, I will be taking this now.”
Ulrich’s next research proposal was only approved when he brought Adler a slice. An excessively large slice, mind you.
Delicious.