Pie Health

At cafealgarves.website, Dr. Luka Kovac writes a cheerful column called “Pie Medicine.” The doctor insists that good health does not always need to taste bitter. Sometimes, he says, the best medicine comes wrapped in pastry.

In his post, Dr. Kovac lists a surprising menu of pies and their “health benefits.”

He begins with blueberry pie, which he calls the anti-aging champion. Blueberries are rich in antioxidants, he explains, and baking them into a pie is simply “making longevity delicious.”

Next comes apple pie. Kovac laughs that grandmothers knew what scientists are still discovering. Apples contain fiber and helpful nutrients, so he jokingly updates the old proverb:

“An apple pie a day might keep the doctor away… though as a doctor I hope you still stop by for coffee.”

Then he praises strawberry rhubarb pie, saying the minerals and vitamin C in the fruit help support strong bones and a healthy spine. The tart rhubarb balances the sweet strawberries, creating what he calls “perfect structural harmony for both dessert and skeleton.”

After that, he highlights lemon meringue pie. Lemon’s vitamin C and bright citrus compounds, he writes, may support the immune system and help the body defend itself against disease. Kovac playfully labels it “the sunshine anti-cancer pie.”

But the list doesn’t stop there. He continues through a whole bakery of “medical desserts”:

  • Pumpkin pie – good for eyesight because of beta-carotene
  • Cherry pie – helpful for sleep and inflammation
  • Pecan pie – brain food thanks to healthy fats
  • Banana cream pie – potassium for the heart

At the end of the article, Dr. Kovac reminds readers that he is only half joking. Good food, laughter, and community are powerful medicine too.

He closes with a line from a classic nanny who understood the same principle:

“Remember,” Kovac writes, “as Mary Poppins said, a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. And if that sugar happens to be inside a pie… well, that’s just excellent medical practice.” 🥧

XCOM Lieutenant Johnny Arroja

Name: Lieutenant Johnny Arroja
Callsign: “Fado”
Nationality: Portuguese
Class: Psionic Operative
Affiliation: XCOM Resistance (Post-ADVENT Occupation)


Early Life

Born in the coastal city of Porto, Johnny Arroja grew up in the shadow of old stone cathedrals and the restless Atlantic. His grandmother used to say he had “o dom”—the gift. As a child, he would finish sentences before they were spoken and wake from dreams that later came true in uncanny detail.

When ADVENT tightened its grip across Europe, Johnny was identified during routine psionic screening and quietly transferred to a gene-therapy facility outside Lisbon. Official records labeled him “non-compliant but promising.” Unofficially, he was considered volatile.


ADVENT Conditioning & Escape

At age 19, Arroja was inducted into ADVENT’s psionic training program. The Elders sought to shape him into a conduit—an amplifier for their will. But Johnny resisted.

During a live-fire suppression of civilian unrest, Arroja experienced what XCOM scientists would later describe as an “unsanctioned psi feedback event.” Instead of projecting fear into the crowd, he turned the psychic surge inward—severing the Elder’s immediate control long enough to flee.

With help from a Resistance smuggler cell operating near the Spanish border, Johnny disappeared into the underground. Months later, he was extracted by XCOM operatives and brought aboard the Avenger.


XCOM Service Record

Rank: Lieutenant
Specialization: Psionic Assault / Mind Control Disruption
Notable Operations:

  • Neutralized a Sectoid Commander via sustained psi-burn during Operation Silent Tide.
  • Shielded an entire squad from panic during a Chosen ambush.
  • Successfully dominated a Gatekeeper for 14 seconds—long enough to turn its own weapon on an ADVENT MEC column.

Arroja’s psionic signature is unusually stable. While many operatives show emotional bleed-through during Void Rift deployment, Johnny exhibits calm focus. His squadmates describe his presence as “like the ocean before a storm—still, but heavy.”


Psychological Profile

Arroja keeps a small pair of rosary beads tucked into his armor plating. Though he rarely speaks of faith, he often quotes Portuguese poetry before missions. His callsign, “Fado,” reflects both Portugal’s mournful musical tradition and the fatalistic edge he carries into battle.

Chief Scientist Tygan notes that Arroja’s psionic frequency resonates at an atypical harmonic—less chaotic than most operatives. In simulations, he demonstrates exceptional resistance to Elder attempts at mental override.

When asked how he resists the Voices, he once replied:

“They whisper about destiny. But destiny belongs to the living.”


Combat Doctrine

  • Opens engagements with Inspire, enhancing squad mobility.
  • Uses Stasis tactically to isolate high-value alien targets.
  • Deploys Void Rift as area denial during urban resistance extractions.
  • Maintains reserve focus for emergency Domination against Sectoids and Priests.

His helmet bears a small painted swallow—symbol of return. For Johnny Arroja, every mission is about returning: to freedom, to Portugal, to a world where no child is screened for psychic obedience.


Current Status

Active duty aboard the Avenger.
Psionic potential: Classified.
Loyalty: Unquestioned.

“We are not conduits for their will. We are the storm they cannot predict.”

Triggering Madison & A Tip Jar

Chef Ramsay storms into Cafe Algarves like a Category 5 hurricane in an apron.

“WHERE’S THE TIP JAR?!” he bellows, veins bulging like overcooked sausages.

Joze, the owner, calmly wipes his hands on a towel.
“We don’t do tip jars here, Chef.”

Ramsay freezes. His eye twitches.

“You… don’t… reward… good service?”

“We prefer fair wages,” Joze replies proudly.

Ramsay’s phone suddenly erupts with Dies Irae blasting at full volume like the soundtrack to culinary Armageddon.

Then Joze leans in and asks politely,
“Chef, would you like a fuca?”

Ramsay spins around.

“I’M NOT—” he stops himself. “Excuse me?”

“A fuca,” Joze repeats.

Ramsay throws his hands in the air. “No I don’t want to fucka, you fouled mouth old man. I’m not fucking with you, I’m asking for a TIP JAR!”

A server walks by and cheerfully says, “Bom tarde!”

Ramsay whirls around again. “My son has down’s syndrome you wretched old man!”.

Joze sighs. “No Chef it means…”

Ramsay points dramatically at the dining room.

“Special people can do all sorts of jobs! Special people of all abilities can work in kitchens, run businesses, do incredible things. What we’re NOT doing is turning greetings into insults because someone can’t listen properly!”

He grabs a spoon like it’s a royal sceptre.

“And by the way — a bonobo can learn complex tasks. That’s impressive. YOU? You can’t even put out a jar for gratuities!”

Joze finally holds up a large chef’s knife.

“Chef… fuca means knife.”

Ramsay pauses.

The Dies Irae reaches full dramatic choir.

“…Oh.”

Beat.

“Right. Well. Good knife. TERRIBLE POLICY.”

He slams a mason jar on the counter.

“Write ‘TIPS’ on it. Big letters. Or I swear I’ll conduct this kitchen like Mozart conducting chaos.”

Fade out as Ramsay argues with his own ringtone.

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