"We don't have any meat," said Jet, in a low growl. "If we had meat, we might be eating better things noodles and sauce."
"I just asked," said Spike, as he rolled the pasta around and around on his fork, "What is spaghetti without meat?"
"It's what we eat when we don't have money."
There was a sudden clatter and Spike dropped his fork, spaghetti clinging to it. "Dammit, Jet," he sighed.
Jet was busy cutting his spaghetti into small pieces. The pieces only got smaller as he gritted his teeth and said, "I don't see what the big deal is." He looked up and met Spike's eyes. "If you don't like it, don't eat it."
"Do you know," said Spike, leaning forward, "so many years ago, there was this robot that identified food. Someone stuck their hand in it and it told them they tasted like bacon. Apparently, we taste like bacon, Jet."
Jet only nodded, mouth full of spaghetti.
"Get a few eggs ... some "bacon" and we have ourselves Carbonara."
Jet swallowed and watched Spike smile, shove pasta in his mouth.
"When Faye and Ed get back, I'm telling them to lock their rooms from the inside," Jet muttered to himself.