They’ve been eating Brownout Smorgasboard all day, starting with the ice cream at breakfast and working up to bacon and wilted spinach for a midafternoon repast. The slowly-emptying refrigerator burps and wheezes in time with the pulsing lights. They should be full to bursting. They’re not. They’re still hungry.

Tyrian goes to the grocery and gets more sweaty ice cream on the cheap, while Aldaea rationalizes other things that might spoil. They drink buckets of paint, chew detergent tablets. Old pills by the bottle. Fall jackets. Winter hats.

There will be more, after all. And all it costs is money.