Its break time. You are swilling cold coffee and eating syntha-tuna snack trays from the vending machine. So hungry. The soda machine ate the last of your change. Meanwhile the cold cold cryo tanks are heating up fast. Bodies, dead but moving, struggling for freedom, so hungry. Your so hungry for the same reason, but your alive so immune to the zombie animation part. You must have more food. You crave everything in the snack machine. You attack it wildly, bashing over and over again with the chairs. Meanwhile the dead are hungry too. So hungry. Only for pulsing warm fresh living flesh. They hear the commotion in the break room and they lurch themselves in that direction. You have made a few cracks and ruined all the chairs. You pick up the table and start ramming the machine hard. Three packs fall down. You fish them out. Its a bar-b-Q ranch style doffels chips bag, small size. Small white powder donuts, a five pack of mini's. And a pack of popcorn for the microwave. You put the corn on and start on the chips. So good! You eat them one by one and everything is right while you are chewing. Pleasure and mindless contentment. Meanwhile the zombies are moaning, gnashing they're teeth. Coming down the hall. Motion catches your eye as your tipping the chips bag up to catch the flavor soaked crumbs. You see people you brought here weeks ago streaming into the break room with vacant looks in they're eyes.