"I heard that cravings mean your body's deficient in vitamins," said Sam. "We haven't eaten any oranges in a while."
"Not unless you count pop," said Dilbo. "I had a Breezer last week. That had pineapple in it."
"I'm not sure that counts." Sam picked up his laptop, identical to his flatmate's but for the sticker on the front. "How about we Google it?"
"I've tried that. It was pointless."
"Nah, I meant Google the cravings." He began to type. "More bacony then bacon." He waited while the page loaded. "We really ought to get our own router, you know," he said. "The connection from upstairs gets worse every month."
"It's money we can't afford," said Dilbo. "We'd have to cut back on games and DVDs. It's not as if she needs all the bandwidth, is it? She's out most of the time."
"I suppose." Sam sat forward. "Here we go. Bacon salt. Turkey bacon. Bacon cheesecake brownies."
"They sound good," said Dilbo. "Where do you get them from?"
"It's a recipe," said Sam. "We'd need a girl to make them for us."
"No chance of that." Dilbo sniffed and tasted blood in the back of his throat. He swallowed. "No girl's going to come here, is she?"
Sam looked around the room. Beer cans, old magazines and DVD cases competed for every available surface, everything covered in a fine layer of dust and cigarette ash. "I suppose not. Maybe if we tidy up a bit?"
"A bit? We'd have to sweep the whole lot outside and under the cracks in the pavement."
Sam shuddered. "Ugh! That's where the creepy crawlies live."