Dinner conversation.

"Yes, we know," Ms. Loome said, pouring out the Wine that Howard had provided to them. "And, pray tell, what is the issue with it Mr. McKay?"

"The 'issue', Ms. Loome," I replied, while eyeing my Cup with suspicion, "is that the soil is fertilized by men's seed. You are consuming the Essence of Men. Pardon me, but one would assume, that given your lack of... Fondness, shall we say, for the opposite Sex, that you would be appalled by such Knowledge."

Ms. Loome looked to her partner, who merely shrugged. "Think of it this way then, Mr. Mckay," Ms. Fraye began, "We grind up Animal Bones and scatter them upon our fields for their nutrients. Food scraps are fed to our pigs, which we then slaughter for Bacon. And Compost is nothing more than Shit whose rot is controlled. Do you have 'issue' with that Knowledge, Mr. Mckay?" she said, lacing her fingers together and studying me intently over them, as I finally brought my Cup to my lips. "Wine is rotted Grape juice as well, isn't it?"

"Lulu please. You promised that you would be on your best behavior," Ms. Loome chided, finally sitting down. Ms. Fraye scowled and rolled her eyes, before letting out a breath. Satisfied that her partner will not seek to remove my head from my shoulders tonight, Ms. Loome proceeded to start the evening's meal.

Halfway through the meal, they did make mention that, to their knowledge, the home I had been provided had sufficient space behind it for a small garden. And had I any desire for 'untainted' vegetables, they would be willing to part with a few seedlings of their own. "Ah. So you also prefer not to eat that produce?" I surmised.

Ms. Fraye swallowed, and dabbed at her lips with a kerchief. "What we can grow on our own, we grow. What we cannot, we purchase. That is simply it. As for preference, one cannot deny that one's sweat and efforts make for the greatest seasoning."

"On that, I agree," I replied, taking my Cup up and toasting her for her insight.

The rest of the evening saw Ms. Fraye's temper cool and and the conversation more pleasant. But I sensed a sort of unease in her. There would be a moment, every so often, that she would glance over at Ms. Loome, as if awaiting a scolding or unpleasant instructions.

"Mr. McKay," Ms. Loome began, finally putting us out of our anxious misery, "I beg your patience with us and wish to make amends, regarding Lulu's behavior yesterday, as well as before dinner." There was a threatening edge in her tone, that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. I opened my mouth to protest the need for it, but she merely turned to her partner and said coolly, "Lulu."

Ms. Fraye balked. She looked to Ms. Loome, then to me, and then back to her. "Sue, I don't-"

"Lulu." Ms. Loome repeated, somehow even colder than before.

Ms. Fraye let out a great and heavy sigh. Finishing her drink, she stood and faced me. "M-Mr, Mckay," she stammered, great effort and some color forming on her face, "would you be so kind, as to join us in, in the lounge?" She took another low breath and swallowed loudly. "There is... there is something I need to show you."

The air was thick with anticipation of my answer. I let out my own breath slowly, and moved my eyes to Mr. Loome. Her features were like stone. Her smile and nod were curt and sharp. It was quite evident that I could not refuse. Clearing my throat, I stood as well, and motioned with my hand. "Lead on, Ladies."