Adam watched the snowfall through the diner’s window. Their trip to the store had been pretty much a failure. They didn’t manage to find a jacket that fitted Adam’s taste, and the only pants in the store that fitted David were made of denim, and David hated denim.

“Bom apatite.” Said the waitress, putting two plates on the table.

“Thank you,” said the boys.

“Huh, miss?” called David “Could you bring me the maple syrup, please?”

“Sure, be right back.”

“Thank you.” He said as she walked away.

Adam continued to stare out of the window.

“Is something wrong?” David asked, looking at Adam’s plate.

“Huh?” He glanced at his food, then his friend, and then went back to staring at the window “No, I’m just waiting for the lady to come back.”

“I thought you didn’t like maple syrup.”

“David, I’ve been stuck with you long enough to know that you’ll get all pouty if I eat while you have nothing to snack on.”

“And it’s rude to eat when our allies are going hungry,” Spice reminded.

“Yes, and that too.”

The waitress brought the syrup, and the two teens ate while watching the news.

The diner was pretty quiet, so they could hear the journalist perfectly even though the TV was at a low volume.

“Yesterday, three young men were attacked inside the WWIII memorial zone. One is currently conscious and was already interrogated by the police; the other two are also conscious but seem to have lost their sanity and are correctly being held in isolation rooms for the time being.”

The two teens stopped eating.

“They need to fire whoever is making this woman’s makeup. She looks like a clown.” Spice commented.

“Now we go to the Elenore Reed Memorial Hospital with our reporter on the scene Carla Torres. How are things there, Carla?”

The image changed to a good-looking woman wearing fashionable winter clothes, standing in front of the ten-year-old hospital that had been constructed during the war.

“As you said, Candace, the three young men were taken to this hospital and received immediate medical care.” She said after looking at the camera in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time. “I’m here with Officer Murphy. What can you tell us about this attack?”

“Well, the victim we interrogated said they were attacked by a group of burly men, they were dressed in tracksuits and using bandanas, classic gangster attire. We already did some robot portraits of the attackers.” He said, showing five portraits that looked the same. “We ask that anyone that has information on these men come forth,” he said, shoving the portraits in front of the camera.

“You said ‘gangster attire’? Were the attackers gangsters?”

“We think so. We want to search the area for any clues about the attackers, a lab or something of the sort, but the local wildlife has been getting in the way.”

“Wildlife?”

“Yeah, some giant boars are infesting the zone, along with some stray cats and dogs, we already called animal control, and they’re taking care of the problem right now. We should be able to start searching the area by the end of the day.”

“We received the information that two of the victims appeared to have gone crazy, what can you say about this?”

“Well, can’t say much relating to their medical condition, you know, privacy and all that, but one of them tried to attack the doctors and nurses, the hospital security subdued him in time, so no one was wounded.”

“What about the other victim?”

“The other victim also had to be subdued; he was trying to… trying to eat his own arm,”

“Oh… Ok, ah... anything else you can say about this case?” she said, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“I don’t think so.”

“Ok, thank you, Officer Murphy.”

“You’re welcome.”

“This was Carla Torres, Elenore Reed Memorial Hospital, New York news. Back to the studio with you, Candace,”

“Thank you, Carla.” She pretended to organize the papers in front of her to give off a professional vibe. “On other news, PBF is starting their annual next-generation formation program.”

The image changed to a white background with PBF’s emblem in the center. The symbol consisted of a pair of minimalistic hands, gently holding a globe and a bunch of people of various heights.

“God damn fascists,” mumbled an old man on the booth behind theirs “First they take our freedom, our dignity, destroy our monuments and holidays, and now they are slowly poisoning our youths every year!”