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Roscoe

“Three counts possession of partially hydrogenated soybean oil,” says the bailiff, “intent to distribute.  One count trafficking in corn syrups.  One count supplying fats to a minor.”

“Man, that was entrapment, man,” sniffs Roscoe.  He’s still wearing his fry apron, and exotic oil scents waft through the court.

“Prosecution requests remand, your honor,” says Sienna. “Defendant is a repeat offender who has put the lives of children at risk–”

“Y’all hypocrites,” snaps Roscoe.  “Like anybody here ain’t going home to light up a frydaddy tonight!”

Glaring, Sienna clenches a grubby meal toy in her pocket and wills her stomach to silence.

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