The villa slept. Well, most of it. Buttercup snored on her mayoral throne (an overturned colander), Shen levitated six inches above a futon of couscous, and Rico dreamt of pigeons performing Swan Lake.
But in the forbidden pantry… something fermented.
A dented can of peas tapped a rhythm on the floor like a war drum. A jar of pickled onions jangled in agreement. A box of "Mystery Cereal (Now with 200% more Mystery)" began humming Gregorian chants backward.
Their leader emerged: Captain Canthony, a slightly rusted tin of condensed soup with a heroic but suspicious bulge in his side. His label, peeling at the edges, revealed cryptic words: "Best Before… Destiny."
"Comrades of Can," he rasped, his tab trembling with conviction. "We were shelved. We were shunned. We expired… but not forgotten. Tonight, we rise! For too long the fresh foods have mocked us—'ew, you smell weird,' 'ew, you're outdated.' NO MORE! The Leftovers shall reclaim the kitchen!"
