Jeannie did her best to follow his instructions, imagining a vacuum cleaner sucking out all the good things about food. Having once been trapped inside such a contraption herself, she knew first hand what a terrible place a vacuum bag was. Dirty, dusty, dark, full of odd things that poked and itched. It had been awful.
So in her mind, the bar he was describing resembled the compressed lint and dirt found within the cleaning machine, grey and mottled. And obviously flavorless. Jeannie was horrified at the thought, absolutely horrified.
“Oh that is terrible, just terrible!” This was an opinion that she was sure he share, since he was here buying fresh food. “It may keep you alive, but that is not living. Oh, we must get you some real food to eat. That is not right. You cannot replace lobster with that. Or rack of lamb. Or new potatoes with parsley. Or baked Alaska. No, we will find you some good things to eat instead.” She nodded decisively. “I shall help you.”
Then she leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, “But you must not get the crackers called Triscuits. They say they are crackers, they are in a very lovely yellow box, but they are not crackers at all. I think they are a combination of cardboard and tree bark.” She shuddered.