"Eat it." Price prodded the spoon against your lips lazily, the lit cigar he had pinched between his lips. He was about to force it down your throat in a moment.

Adjusting himself in the chair Price, sighed out, rolling the tension from his shoulders. "I know, it ain't the best. But it's somethin, and you're gonna eat it. Or I'm gonna force you. So how about you be a good little soldier, and eat the damned food." He took in a puff of his cigar.