Slambungus Secondburger stood in front of his empty food cart and grinned. The metal sides were dented and the wheels squeaked, but it was his. He'd saved for two years to buy it. Now he just needed the perfect dish to sell—something nobody had ever tasted before. Something so weird that people would line up around the block just to try it. He grabbed a paintbrush and got to work. By noon, the cart blazed with color. Swirls of purple and orange twisted across the sides. Pink streaks shot through yellow clouds. The whole thing looked like it belonged in a fever dream, not on a street corner. Slambungus stepped back and nodded. This cart would make people stop. It would make them curious. And curious people bought food. The next morning, he pushed the cart to the forest clearing he'd found. He needed a test kitchen, somewhere away from the busy crowds. The clearing had space and quiet. He set up a mismatched collection of chairs around a wobbly table. Then he arranged the giant fake food he'd built—a cardboard hot dog taller than his waist, a pretzel the size of a tire, a pizza slice that could shade two people. The setup looked absurd. That was exactly right. He placed the gachapon machine near the table. Its colorful body gleamed in the sunlight, and the waving inflatable arms danced in the breeze. Inside sat dozens of capsules filled with his experimental samples—sweet pickles coated in chili powder, frozen broth you could suck like candy, crackers that tasted like birthday cake. Anyone could turn the knob for free. He just wanted to know what worked. Tomorrow he'd open the testing area and see which flavors made people come back for more.