‘eliminate the middle man,’ she explained. ‘eat the living. the more life in my food, the more life in me.’
he groaned in disgust, taking large swigs from a bottle of swamplike liquid.
she paused in her efforts and plopped down in his shadow.
‘and just what are you drinking’ she squinted up at him.
without hesitation he launched into his spiel: ‘nobody likes poop, right? it’s a smelly nuisance. it’s the stuff we don’t need. so why not take all of the extra stuff out before hand? this bottle contains -nothing- that my body will not use. nothing wasted. thus, no waste.’
she considered all of the terrible implications of his invention, namely the huge market he would have for such a product. ‘poo.no.more.’ she gave it a name and instantly regretted her contribution to this project. ‘i think you’re probably going to be rich.’