“Frank.”

“Stan.”

“I’m hungry.”

“I saw what I saw.”

“I want to hear it again.”

“Okay: I’m cruising, when I hear that bleating sound the big bugs make.”

“Go on.”

“I circle over one of the stinky black game trails the big bugs use, and I see that one of those long things has flipped over on top of a bug and a buncha other bugs have run into it. Stuff is on fire, prefood is running around screaming, it’s crazy, right?”

“Seen it before. Skip to why we’re here.”

“So, I’m eyeing all this dinner, when a bunch of screaming flashy things show and vomit prefood, some of which starts loading dinner trays into the back of a screaming thing. It scoots down a game trail like a panther’s chasing it, and I follow it here. They take the dinner trays inside…”

“Why?”

“They’re scavengers, Stan! And they’re hoarding!”

“You think if we wait here long enough…”

“We zip in through that barrier that slides back and forth, grab a bite, and wing it out!”

“Well, it’s definitely a plan, Frank.”