"Eat," Wong said demandingly. He set the bowl down on the table, folding his arms.

Stephen frowned. "Wong. Whatever this is, this is not food." He gingerly poked the gelatinous muck with a shaking fork.

"Using magic burns your body up." The librarian said. "You must eat."

"You know, if you don't know how to cook, that's fine." Stephen pushed his chair back, standing up. He shivered, wishing that the Sanctum had heating. "Just please, don't pretend this stuff is edible."

A tentacle oozed its way out of the purple sludge, creeping out of the bowl. Wong impatiently beat it back.

"Normal food will not feed you properly anymore." Wong said. "Eat. Now."

"No." Stephen grumbled. "Wong, look at it. It's the magical lovechild of Justin Bieber." His cloak swat away a curious soupy appendage for emphasis.

Wong stared blankly, and the Sorcerer Supreme rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Wow. Seriously? How have you not – What do you even do when you're not in the library?

"Sleep." Wong said. "And cook."

"Right." Stephen stared at the meal in disbelief. From within the murky depths of the bowl, an eyeball stared back. "So… What about right now? Who's guarding all the books?"

"Students. Also, refrigerator."

"It's probably the most dangerous thing in the Sanctum." Stephen muttered under his breath. When Wong gave him a suspicious glare, he put his hands up in defense. Stephen slowly wandered towards the door.

"You're changing the topic." Wong said. "Eat."

"I will!" Stephen agreed. "I was just going to, you know, go out and grab some pizza, and eat real food that isn't going to give me Gastroesophageal Reflux in my sleep." He gave an uneasy grin, reaching for the door. "I just have to stay away from Taco Bell. I'll be fine."

"You will regret it." Wong warned. "And you still have to protect the Sanctum Sanctorum."

Stephen scoffed, and his Cloak shrugged off the stray dinner that had attached itself to his back. "Don't worry. All you have to do is leave a bowl of leftovers." He quickly shut the door, and rushed for the exit before Wong could react.

He stepped out onto the street, taking a deep breath of the cold winter air. He strode confidently towards the local fast food markets, ignoring the inquisitive looks in his direction.

It was New York. If people had a problem with the Cloak flinging the occasional snowball, they could complain about it to someone else.

The sorcerer smirked. Going out for a slice of pizza was infinitely better than staying locked up inside the Sanctum, freezing to death and being force-fed sentient sewage.

In the back of his mind, he wondered how Wong was able to survive on that stuff. Stephen figured he would have a better chance at survival if he chugged down a liter of battery acid.

Stephen spotted a decent-looking fast food vendor, and hurried inside. His stomach growled hungrily.

Stomping his boots to get rid of the clinging snow, he quickly ordered a plate of Hawaiian pizza. When no one was looking, the Cloak swiped up a can of soda from one of the chilled glass fridges lining the wall.

On most days, Stephen would tell off the overgarment for stealing, but today, he was too hungry to argue. He thanked the Cloak and picked up the aluminum can, and tried to prise it open.

His shaking hands couldn't even snag the tab, though, and Stephen bitterly gave up when he realized it.

To pass the time, he fiddled with a paper napkin while he waited.

He was doing the right thing, Stephen assured himself. By leaving the Sanctum, Wong would realize exactly how bad his cooking was. The Sorcerer would have taken up the mantle as chef himself, but he was still unable to even turn on a stove correctly, let alone try to chop up vegetables.

Yes, he was in the right. There was absolutely no way Stephen would ever try to eat the muck Wong had given him. He was pretty sure it belonged in the Accidental Life Form storage in the Sanctum's cellar.

He might even order another pizza for takeaway, Stephen mused as his table number was called. Wong would certainly enjoy it. He might even make a habit of ordering food instead of attempting to make it himself.

The Cloak pulled him towards the counter, jolting Stephen out of his thoughts. To the worker's credit, the bored teenager didn't seem too surprised at the sight of a fully grown man being dragged around by a piece of fancy clothing.

Then again, this was New York. It probably happened all the time.

"One small Hawaiian pizza for a Mister Strange?" The clerk asked. The Cloak, distracted by the other man's lip piercing, dropped Stephen on the floor.

The Sorcerer Supreme hauled himself up from the grimy floor. "Uh, yeah. That's me. And, also, I'm actually a Doctor, it's a common mistake-"

"That'll be seventeen dollars."

"What?" Stephen gaped. Eight months ago, it wouldn't have made a difference. The former surgeon used to have more money than he knew what to do with.

Now? Not so much. Being an all-powerful protector of the Earth didn't pay well. Horrible choice for a career. It didn't even come with dental.

He reached deep into a pocket, withdrawing all of his loose change. "Well, I've got fourteen dollars and… fifty… fifty five cents." Stephen counted. "But I did save the world from Dormammu, so I'm pretty sure I get an Avengers discount."

The teen squinted, swatting away an overly-inquisitive Cloak. "I'm pretty sure Tony Stark isn't a magician."

"But I'm an Avenger."

"If you were an Avenger, I would have seen you in the news. You're not."

Stephen sighed. The Avengers thing was worth a try. "No, no, I'm Doctor Strange. You know, Sorcerer Supreme, super-famous surgeon, all-around cool guy?"

"Never heard of him." The worked glanced down, taking in the dark blue robes and his belts. "Tell you what. Throw in the brass knuckles and it's a deal."

"No, it's called a Sling Ring, and I need it to-" Stephen massaged his temples. "Never mind. Kid, I need the pizza, okay? It's important."

"If it's that important, you'll give me seventeen dollars."

"Well, um…" Stephen checked his pockets again, to no avail. "How about a magic trick?"

"Listen, if you're not gonna pay, can you get out? You're holding up the line."

Stephen peeked over his shoulder. There wasn't a single customer in the room.

"I'll pay you back double, alright?" Stephen grumbled. "As soon as I can. If I don't come tomorrow, you can charge me triple. Just give me the pizza."

His Cloak tapped him on the shoulder. "Not now," He hissed. "Daddy's busy."

The clerk gave Stephen a dubious look. "You'll pay me back?"

"I'll pay you back four times as much if you don't tell anyone."

"You know, the word for that is just quadruple. And-"

"I don't care." Stephen spat. The Cloak tapped him on the shoulder, more urgently this time. "No!" He muttered. "Bad Cloak!"

"I'll pay you five times. Just – Please. The pizza."

"Alright, but if-"

Stephen had already put what money he had on the counter, and snatched the box out of the teen's hands.

Storming out of the door, he lifted the lid of the box.

There it was, in all of its glory. A beautiful pizza, right in front of him.

Taking a slice out of the box, Stephen took a large bite and started chewing. Already, he was rethinking his initial plans of saving some for Wong. No, this pizza was far too good to waste on anyone else. He'd keep it for himself. Maybe he'd keep some leftovers for tomorrow-

"Augh!" Stephen spat out the pizza, dropping the slice in favour of clutching his stomach. Immediately, half a dozen pigeons swooped down and fought over it.

In the back of his mind, the sorcerer wondered why birds were still in New York if it was the middle of winter. But instead of giving it anymore thought, he got down on his hands and knees in the middle of the sidewalk and retched.

His cloak jumped off his back, floating by in what Stephen assumed must be disgust. He supposed he would have done the same thing if it happened to someone else.

When he was finished, Stephen stared at the pizza in horror. He took a deep whiff, and the thick heavenly smells invaded his nostrils.

It smelled perfectly normal.

Maybe he just had a bad slice?

He cautiously reached for a second one, this time on the opposite side of the pizza. He took a smaller bite, chewing it carefully.

It tasted fine. Great, even.

He swallowed.

Immediately, it felt like he was trying to digest a pair of old dirty socks. It got stuck halfway down his throat, and was sent hurtling out of his mouth, accompanied by a large amount of vomit.

He groaned, staggering to his feet. The Cloak watched nearby, almost amused by the situation.

Goddamn sadistic son of a cape.

Before he could puke again, he had whipped out his Sling Ring, trying to do it in such a rush, he had to try again another two times before the portal back to the Sanctum opened up.

He stumbled through, stepping in a pile of his own stomach liquids in his rush. Right before it closed up, the Cloak slipped through, warily avoiding Stephen as he collapsed onto the staircase, throwing up yet again.

"Wugh-" Stephen spat, clearing his throat. "W-Wong!"

The librarian came out of the kitchen, amused. "Back already? Did you enjoy your meal?"

Stephen sent him a look of utter loathing, which might have been intimidating had he not immediately retched some more.

Wong eyed the open pizza box, which had been abandoned haphazardly on the steps.

He grimaced. "Strange. After several months of constantly using magic, your body begins to reject normal food. You have to eat things with a very high acidity rate. Otherwise, you can't consume anything at all."

"Why didn't you tell-" Stephen fought back another load of vomit. He failed.

"I tried." Wong said. "You didn't listen."

The look Stephan gave him was so venomous, Wong could have used the toxins to create tomorrow's breakfast.

"Now." The librarian helped the other man to his feet." "You will eat your dinner."

Stephen hurled some more.

"On second thought," He corrected. "Clean yourself up first. I will see you afterwards to make sure you fix up this mess."

The Sorcerer Supreme shambled off to the bathroom.

Some nights, he hated being a wizard.

There you have it! This, just so you know, is all actually canon! Several times, mostly in the comic series 'Doctor Strange (2015)', he is seen devouring large bowls of squishy disgusting purple ooze. After some digging, I found out that thanks to his constant use of magic, he cannot eat any normal food. Obviously, after watching the movie, I had to write this. I couldn't help it.

Just so you all know, I don't recommend reading poor Stephen's adventures in that comic series. It's not pretty. The Cloak dies.

Yeah, morbid, I know. I loved Cloaky too. May it rest in pieces.

Until next time, kiddos! Adieu!