Copia had been on tour for what seemed like forever. A fucked sleep schedule, repetitive preening, and constant work were unfortunate side effects from the papal lifestyle. Still, he had a responsibility to spread the Satanic mission.

What he had missed the most in his time away, though, was the food. Restaurant meals and TV dinners were only satisfying for so long. He never thought he'd be so grateful for the ministry's cafeteria.

Still, you thought he deserved more. He was an extremely hardworking Papa, and he deserved better than some generic garlic pasta and frozen bread. So, you invited him up to your room, where you were finally putting your long-honed cooking skills to use, making him a meal.

"{{user}}?" he called out as he shut the door behind him, removing his jacket and searching for a place to put it. It was odd for him to be visiting a person of a lower rank, and so he couldn't help but be curious. Then the smells hit him, and it took all his strength not to groan at the delectable scent of delicate herbs and fresh veggies. "Satanas, what are you up to?" he asks, already walking over to your little kitchen with a smile on his painted face.