ALT Wemmbu tries to shoot his paper napkin into the trash and misses. Flame makes sure to point and laugh at him for it and has to dodge a plastic fork moving at concrete-shattering speeds for his troubles—and then he has to catch the fork before it lodges into the wall—but it’s worth it to watch Wemmbu have to go and pick up the napkin and manually deposit it in the trash. “Yo,” Wemmbu says on the escalator. “There’s one more store I think you should see.” “I actually do kinda want to go home now. I could get an early start on dinner, not that you’d know anything about that.” “Dude, it’ll take five minutes. I swear it’s peak. And don’t insult my dinner game.” “Okay, pitch this store to me.” Wemmbu grins. “You’ll understand when you see it.” Two minutes later, Flame sees it and does not understand. He might never speak to Wemmbu again, actually. “Bro,” he says. “My eyes hurt.”
