Chicken runs the buffet line with a live feed of herself on the monitor. She's grilling her own kind, but has no understanding. The other PIMs pretend not to notice. Every shift, she plates what could've been her cousin, her friend, herself. Her only solace: garlic knots. Perfect golden orbs of simple carbs. No consciousness. No relatives. Just yeast and flour doing what they're meant to do.

The Ballistic Pizza cafeteria never closes. We're open 24/7. Some serve protein with existential dread. The Chicken PIM serves it with unlimited knots.