Nick sautes the cut Fujis in butter while Marge kneads the dough. Upon second sizzle, the apples go into the bowl. Nick stirs the apples, coating them in brown sugar and cinnamon, a dash of salt.
The sugar came from sugar canes, the Fujis from Apple trees, and Cinnamon from a tree bark grown in Green Acres. The butter was cultivated in a vat. The salt sodium and chloride came from a comet and asteroid. And Nick lives in a spinning barrel 22,000 miles over a ruined Earth. Welcome to the Cucchina del’Astra.
“Good thing HomePlex got the Cinnamon trees before the big crash. Who’s idea was it to bring up all the tree seedlings at the beginning & growing them in an inflatable greenhouse before construction began on Green Acres?”, Nick asked Marge.
Marge gave an Oh-duh look, “Whoddayya think? Trumbull & Judy, of course. Even modified, it takes years for a tree to produce fruit, though Cinnamon comes from the bark. I guess that’s why the apple trees came up first and cinnamon tree just before the Impact. Same for Sassafras. It was awful damn good timing.”
“Maybe it wasn’t just good timing. The signs were there something big was going to happen”, Nick added. “He knew?”, Marge dropped the rolling pin. “Why didn’t he warn anyone??”.
Nick paused, “People suspected, I think. But all the Governments were so compromised, they could only do so much.”, “Like what?”, Marge shouted. “Like sending the Cinnamon trees, and you.”, Nick said softly.”
“Why Nick? Why me? You’re the guerilla war chief. Trumbull’s the Father of HomePlex. Judy a major donor, Bob the Navy SEAL, Marla worked at NSA! And me? I’m just a homebody with nice boobs!” “They’re very nice-“, a piece of pastry struck and stuck to his forehead. “Nice hooting, Margy!”, another one, this time, Marge laughs. Then, she grew pensive, “Seriously Nick, why did you all marry me? I’m a glorified cook, baker. I never amounted to anything, I’m not important!”
“You’re wrong, you are important. To your family. To everybody.”
“Put it on a greeting card & mail it up your ass Nick.”
Nick laughed. “You see, that’s why.”. His voice softened, “Marge, Trumbull, Judy, Bob, Marla & I are the fighters, and the fight is coming. We have things to do in whatever drama’s brewing. But you, you remind us what we are fighting for.”
“Hooters and Apple Pie, seriously?”, she said, standing in an ageless pose of things much fertile.
“Yes, seriously. Hooters & Apple pie.”.
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