These kids! They're so hungry!

They’re moths.

They arrive in hungry hoards, fluttering en masse to the canteen for a bite – a brief respite. Their feelers extend with minuscule note offerings, waving like tentacles as if, not unlike birds-of-paradise, the showiest and quickest shaking dollar not only claims its prize first but also enjoys the widest selection of bulochki.

A mustachioed creature with a limp manages through the threshold, past the young moths, and toward the other end, to the queen. His speech to someone who doesn’t speak the language sounds inebriated and a bit retarded, but we know better. In fact uber-intelligible, this professor, inventor, and writer, owns and operates the first ever and now largest cheese dispensary this side of the Sugar. He is our genius, his ideas having saved our lives not once but twice, not including the near-unmentionable pancake shortage where-within he deduced that cheese could be substituted for milk and thus saved our children from malnourishment.

That was the year the new generation of kiows had, without warning, evolved to no longer utter out milk, but instead the tastiest and most organic substance ever experienced (for it was exactly that – an experience – and nothing less) by our bevy in those times. The eccentric professor, nameless at the time according to tradition, was the first to subject his tongue to this palatal cheeseish substance. Ingested raw and without any additions, he discovered on the town square in full view of everyone that, though sheerly orgasmic to the taste buds, the substance caused wild hallucinations half the time and the other half proved to be a deadly poison. Of course the junkies of the day couldn’t resist, and, newly addicted to the craze as strongly as the drug itself, began to synthesize their own strains, the most popular was called ‘KoinToss’...