In the harsh winter of 1838, an orphanage cook is ladling soup to all the little orphan boys. One boy, a cockney accent of eleven years, builds up the courage to enquire the cook for another serving of the delicious soup; which warmed the orphans in stark contrast to the cold winter air. He shyly asked with this simple phrase: "May I please have some more?"

The Cook - not known for his generous serving portions, but for his short temper - had never considered the thought of giving another serving to the boys. At first he was outraged by what he believed was "an entitled little ♥♥♥♥" who didn't deserve a second serving. Yet the look on the boys face - a miserable and somewhat pathetic look - abruptly and explosively altered his preconceptions. An odd and rather sickening mixture of pity and joy rose up from inside the depths of his heart. A strange word he had never heard before came to him..."more?...mor...Mortengo...?" What did that mean? The word reverberated in the back of his mind. The hungry orphan boy looked up expectantly, hesitantly, almost hopeful; that the Cook's stunned silence would yield a positive result. The Cook looked deep into the boys eyes and, at that moment, had a revelation. The word 'Mortengo' had no meaning; yet the Cook became ecstatic...he felt like giving extra soup to every single orphan boy!

The Cook was overjoyed. 'Hahaha! Mortengo' He exclaimed. The Cook, a man of incredible strength, picked up the scolding hot pot of soup in one hand and a ladel in the other. The man began dancing and making his way down the great orphanage dining hall. He then jumped on top of the dining table closest to him, stumbling on a child's head and nearly spilling the contents of the pot all over the table. 'Mortengo!' He yelled, and along with his joyful shout; he scooped a ladel of soup and flung the contents into a young orphans face. In the cooks intense joy he couldn't hear the young boy screaming in agony! 'Mortengo!' He shouted as if the word contained the meaning of life itself, continuing down the dining table, flinging soup at innocent orphans. 'Mortengo Mortengo Mortengo!' One, two, three more victims of intense facial burns. 'MORRRRRTEENGOOOO!'