Bryan pulled out a chair and plopped down in it with zero grace. Sarah and Iris sat down in their respective seats, completing their impromptu gathering.
Neville distributed chips to individual plates, grateful he had made more than he had originally planned. A huge plastic bag had seemed excessive when he was packing, but now it felt barely adequate.
"Oh my god," Sarah moaned around a mouthful of banana chips. "This is amazing. Neville, you're a genius."
"I—"
"Accept the compliment," Iris said, her stern expression softening as she tried a potato chip. "These are good. Where'd you learn to make them?"
From a half-remembered recipe on Earth and sheer desperation to satiate his cravings. But of course, Neville wouldn't say that.
Instead, he shrugged. "Just something I thought of."
Sarah grabbed another handful, his earlier theatrics forgotten. "You should sell these. Start a side business. I will buy them."
