Like Christ and his apostles, so too, did Zodiac have his twelve disciples. They were called Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius and Pisces. Each of them were very different, but, accordingly, served a different purpose in Zodiac’s life. Zodiac was the uniting force between them all, and without him, it was undeniable that none of them would have sustained their acquaintanceships for this long. He embodied each of their spirits and was therefore irresistible to them all.

Aries was a rambunctious motherfucker, always biting off more than he could chew. And his limbs seemed to be getting portlier by the day. It was enough to make Zodiac question whether or not he should even invite him to Buffetland–the mecca of buffet spreads. Located in a seemingly garden variety strip mall, Buffetland was the end all, be all of food options. While its exterior may have appeared ordinary beyond admonition, the contents therein is what made it pure paradise on Earth. And this is precisely why Zodiac had to choose wisely in selecting his eating accomplice.

Taurus was always very willing to indulge–a sucker for temptation of any kind–and a civilized woman overall, but often provided nothing but boring conversation or psychopathic chatter. Then there was Gemini, they were batshit crazy. And you never knew what you were going to get with that squirrelly trans. Say one wrong thing and you might get scrambled egg thrown in your face.

Cancer could be tolerable, but then he would probably start weeping about some grand injustice that didn’t even apply to him. Leo. Oh god. Absolutely not. He would hog all the resources, speak only of himself and his greatness. And he would never decide on any one breakfast food, just peck at them all and claim to be a man of seasoned taste and incorrigible appetites. Virgo was fine enough as a dining companion, yet she generally felt too guilty about enjoyment, and that could really affect Zodiac’s vibe. Libra was somewhat similar, except she tended to be so very annoying with her espousal of each item and its merits. For Chrissakes, there was nothing redeeming about plain oatmeal.

The last time Zodiac tried to take Scorpio out for a meal, he tried to fuck him on the table. Zodiac wasn’t willing to go through that sort of public humiliation again. Sagittarius wasn’t much better in this regard, and she always seemed to be on ecstasy or talking about some as of yet unrealized travel plans. With Capricorn, the problem was that he was too willing to complain, and would invariably suck all of the enjoyment out of eating by pre-calculating the check amount in his mind.

Though Aquarius could be a chill dining companion, you never knew which version of him you were going to get: the readable or the arcane and mercurial. And Zodiac was in no existential mood today. Finally, there was the option of getting Pisces to accompany him. She was, however, liable to have a meltdown in front of the chafing dishes from sheer indecision over what to choose.

In the end, Zodiac decided it would only be fair and appropriate to take them all to Buffetland, regardless of how harrowing it might be. Because to leave one of them behind would be like extracting a vital organ from a body. It couldn’t properly function without all its parts. He would simply need to be prepared for any physical and/or emotional damages caused while all twelve of them were at one table together, making this, to be certain, a once a year sort of excursion. He was only made of matter, not money.