"It's one 'a those shows," says Tilly.

"What shows?"

"The shows where they send off the extras."

Kara watches the screen intently as Tilly wrestles with a well-sealed canister of Wake-Eez. A vacuumed whoosh signals defeat for the troublesome snacks as a clamor of whistles and percussion welcome the show back for viewing pleasure.

"Which ones are extra?" says Kara, slightly overwhelmed by the diversity of the onscreen activity; a small volcano of color and sparkle, white noise and music.

"All of 'em I guess."

"That guy?!"

"No. Not him. All the ones behind the line." Tilly gestures toward the topmost corner of the display.

"Oh… So why are they--?"

"Wake-E?" Tilly offers, extending his hand and the contents within; a couple of spherical, orange munchies.

Kara accepts, perhaps minutely annoyed at the interruption. She pops the little snacks into her mouth and goes about her questioning. "So why are they extras?"

"They just are."

"Who made 'em extra?"

"They don't get into that. They just send 'em."

Kara starts to feel the punch of her Wake-Eez. "But… but where are the parents? They'd be extras too."

"No parents," says Tilly, "Just accidents."

"Well that hardly seems fair."

"S'not about fair, is it?" Tilly is two fisting the snacks, eyes darting about from wall to wall. Five shows in all, taking them in.

"Do they ever say what happens to the parents?" says Kara.

"They get sent off too, I guess."

"But where?" Kara ignores the other shows.

"Certainly not on TV... Who'd wanna see that?"

"I would," her voice rose in pitch, angry, "Rather than this. These kids, they can't help that they're extra. It's the parents' fault."

Tilly places a jittery hand on his friend's knee. "Hey, hey, take it easy. It's just TV. Like I said, who-besides you-would wanna see the parents up there?"

"Yeah, yeah…" Kara settles down, "I guess it's bad enough that those people made extras to begin with, why reward 'em by lettin' 'em be on the TV.

"There you go," Tilly leans over and gives Kara a nervous kiss. "Now look, they're gonna send 'em."

Onscreen, the whistles shriek, the drums beat, bells ring, and an unseen crowd roars, drowning out the cries of the infants in the Extras Bin. Now center stage, the host of the show draws a razor from its sheath, announcing the send off.

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