Life had a funny way of sneaking up on them. "For the last time, Gin: Is there something going on that I don't know about?" Arms folded and a scowl for miles. She meant business.
"Listen, Rani. It ain't my fault things turned out like this." And it wasn't. "I mean, can anyone explain this?" In his hands were three vacuum-sealed packages of bacon—pepper, hickory, and maple. Rangiku held three of her own, but they were all honey. Neither of them could believe what happened. Their kitchen had gone from 'painfully empty' to 'bacon warehouse' in just one night. It was indeed a riddle for the ages.
"Think it was someone we know?" He began to move some of the boxes around.
"They wouldn't dare." She rolled up the sleeves of her pajama shirt and placed an armful of N—'S FINEST GLAZED near the sink. "Not enough muscles in the world to pull this off." She faced him and yawned. "…this world, anyway."
Once finished, Rangiku turned on the TV. The news was on. "…reports of missing pigs in C— Prefecture has stirred unrest among citizens. No word from the prefecture council, but stay tuned as…" She turned it off. The bags under her eyes spoke for themselves.
In the background, Gin started heating the stove. "Hope you got a taste for…" He squinted. "Ca-na-da. Canada. Ain't got a choice." His voice grew flat. They knew what they had to do: dispose of the evidence and eat to survive—literally.
With the first slice of bacon on the skillet, their life together was off to an amazing start.