0017

[A voice is heard from outside]

VOICE: Dang it
       The soup
       The soup's to blame!

(ARCHIMEDES comes through the door, with a look of shock and horror on his face.)

WS: What is it, arch?
AR: It's the soup!
WS: What about the soup?
AR: THE SOUP! It was the soup's fault!
WS: What kind was it?
AR: Obviously the faulty kind.
WS: Incidentally, look at this.

(WINSTON picks up the remote, situated between his crumpled bag of cheetos and a half-empty beer, and flicks the nearby television on. A news reporter is speaking.)