You’re about to take a tender bite out of your double cheeseburger, anticipating the gristly wonder that awaits you, when a single drop of some unidentifiable liquid falls into the mouth of the burger. You look up. The cage is above you. How did you forget? You specifically picked this seat for this purpose, as that liquid, it was sweat. You take a bite of your burger. It tastes delicious, thanks to the sweet nectar that is pore juice, now available daily.
I have but one question. Why must Marketplace be a godless pit? Why must the carnal religious sacraments of Shooters be contained in one building? Why must the pasta line always be so long? There’s even a spot for it, as only one side has an upstairs section, a cell could easily be installed.
If you think I’m going too far, you’ll be relieved to know it won’t be open during breakfast. This isn’t some game. It’s for the health of the student populace, both mental and physical. Nothing makes me hungrier than seeing ass thrown back, and with food points running low, it’s important that I eat as much as I can at Marketplace.