Two males of no moral value had completed a night of consuming problem-solving liquids containing alcohol: the miracle brain solvent of the masses. Society in this neck of the woods had created establishments that put bar stools and bar tops between the patrons and bartenders that served the magic elixirs sitting on the back bars. They were called bars…. MMMM? The 2 rascals were on an expedition of unknown design, driven only by the alcohol-distorted, neural networks that were dumped into their craniums by sheer chance. “Spic” was the more stable of the 2 but his lead over “Span” wasn’t by much, perhaps, by 4 less arrests over their interesting adolescent apprenticeships. Anyway…Spic and Span had completed their gauntlet through a maze of bars that ended at 2 AM; food was now required. Instead of the usual all-night restaurants that attracted Testosterone Titans and potential fights, Spic and Span drove by an open Dunkin Donuts. “Well, what do you think?” Spic enquired Span. He replied, “it’s not even crowded. Let’s go there.” Behind the counter was a man in his 30’s that wore the Dunkin Donut uniform. He was alert, helpful, and of an India ancestry. “Can I hulp yooo?” was his first response as Spic and Span eyed up the sugary booty. “Yeah… we’ll take a dozen donuts,” replied Spic. Grabbing a box and some tissues, the Hindi/English speaking, brown man stationed himself in front of the bakery display. “We’ll take 2 chocolate Long John’s to start,” said Spic. Just then Span went into a rambling of his upcoming 3 job interviews that would take place on Monday. He went on and on as Spic listened and the brown man stood there with 2 donuts in his box, needing 10 more. As Span ranted for 5 minutes more about his upcoming perspectives, Span finished with a statement, “What a dilemma!” The patient brown man saw an opportunity to complete his task and said, “Oh! Yoo want da lemon donuts,” and threw in 10 more to complete the order and rid his store of 2 idiots.