"Eat, guys," Jonathan said, with another nervous glance at the numbers. "God only knows what this gig's gonna be."

Steve sighed. "Jonathan, you don't deep fry spaghetti noodle pixels."

"It's either that," Jonathan said grimly, "or beer & weed."

"Sounds good to me," Ross said.

"Toon weed," Jonathan said. "And toon beer."

"Like toon spaghetti is better," Ross sighed.

Neal was silent, eyes fixed on the pixelated plate.

"Holy crap," Steve said, disgusted, as he saw a car pull up outside. "That's our ride?"

Neal was still silent, pushing away from the table and going outside to the car. He reached the car door & suddenly vanished; everyone jumped up with a yell, as the car continued honking.

Steve hit the door running, was the next to reach it...and he also vanished. Jonathan pulled up short, Ross and Smitty bumping into him.

"If they wanted to kill us," Ross said, "they'd just virus the pixel food."

Tentatively Jonathan touched the cardoor, and found himself pulled in, a black space of nothing. He had no sense of time, no sense of motion, no sense of where the others were. He opened his mouth to yell, and no sound came out; he tried to reach out, and didn't know if his arms moved or even existed. He floated there, scared, hours or minutes, he wasn't sure....

Then suddenly he was outside the car again, the others standing near him, confused & blinking in the sudden reappearance of colors and sound.

The junker pulled away.

Jonathan happened to glance at the numbers in the blue mist. They'd gone up a little, and he felt exhausted.

"I've gotta @!$$," Neal said shortly, and pushed past them towards the house.

"He's getting better at that," Smitty said.

"That wasn't a subway," Steve said in a low voice. "And we weren't playing...were we?"

"WHERE were we?" Ross said. "That's the other question."

There was more food in the pixel fridge. Ross reached it first, shooed the others away. "I've got it this time," he said. "I'll be okay." For a time, there wasn't any sound but an odd humming, then finally, they grabbed plates and carefully sat down at the beat-up table to eat.

"Ross, you scrambled POTATO CHIPS??"

"Watch it, Steve, or you'll be singing an octave LOWER...."

"I'm not singing NOW," Steve said.

"Were you singing then?" Neal said quietly.

Everyone fell silent.

"None of us were," Steve said finally. He shoved his chair back & headed for the back door.