“Reg!” Ana hissed, pulling on his arm. He had almost walked away when the television had distracted her. It was a news channel talking about some event in the United States.

“Well, you’re not going to stop me,” Reggie whined. “I’m hungry.”

“Well, so are the rest of these people,” Phineas pointed out, “and they’re even hungrier than you. None of us were supposed to land in Canada, anyway. Mom’s not telling us why everybody landed.”

“It has something to do with a b—” Ana began.

“I don’t care!” Reggie bellowed. “It’s wrong. Says you! So what?”

“Well,” Phineas intervened, “if he is hungry, and it’s just one…”

Angrily, Ana spat, “Think about everybody else. By the looks of it we’re going to be here awhile.” She pointed towards a far corner of the terminal, where workers in greenish-brown uniforms were starting to place cots around the thoroughfare.

“I’m taking another pudding,” Reggie declared, “and I’m not going to let you do anything about it.” He promptly wheeled about and stomped off.