Excerpt:

Mercer had, in fact, not been wondering where they were. He’d been watching the same bit of The Lion King all night long. Only upon their re-entry of the house Mercer did look up, frown that big forehead of his, and ask “Where have you been all night?”
“Shooting ravagers in the face and playing chess” Edward said without even so much as blinking. Mercer thought about this for a while, decided he didn’t know what chess was, and finally said “Oh”, and pushed the play button for another run of Hakuna Matata, which pretty much ended the discussion. Edward opened up some two packs of lasagne for him and the little bear and as always the critter couldn’t finish his portion, so Edward had to stew away that as well. Watching the bear eat was well worth the waste of another pack of lasagne though, as Bruno spent large amounts of time turning his food into a pasta tower of Babylon with a moat and everything, or on a bad day used it to decorate the walls.
“You’re eating too much, Eddy” Mercer said absently, his eyes still fixed to the screen.
Edward laughed.
“You’re one to talk! You think I didn’t notice those splatters of blood in the garbage shute?”
“I only had half of him, and I disposed of the rest as you asked. I can’t help having to catch a new one every night if you won’t let me hang up some meathooks so I can preserve the meat”
“Preserve? You ate half of him, and you’d eat the other half the next day, there’d be no need to preserve”
“I don’t see why you won’t let me keep them around then. It’s just a waste of food, Eddy”
Again the company rules prompted in Edward’s head, reminding him that “Any waste of resources is bad for the state”, but he quickly remembered that he was an outlaw now, a vigilante almost even, and besides, the company probably hadn’t been talking about cannibalism when they wrote that rule. Cannibalism was never even mentioned in the rules, but that’s because it wasn’t really technically a problem. Rules stated murder was outlawed and punishable by deportation, and so was eating anything other than lasagne. Off course, Edward realised, that did still allow for lasagne with human meat in it, as long as it wasn’t home killed… Useless case in point, off course, since human meat traders were extremely rare if not impossible to find. There was probably a market, but it was too much of a hazardous profession to be worthwhile to anyone. If the produce didn’t kill you, the customers would.
“It’s unsanitary, leaving those corpses hanging around” Edward resolved.
Mercer grumbled.
“Well, okay, but only because I need the workout anyways”
Judging from Mercer’s huge posture and bulging muscles, this was just a lame excuse not to have to admit defeat completely, but Edward would take it. Anything was worth not having to hear Mercer whine about his more annoying habits (i.e. cannibalism) all the time. Edward scooped up the final splash of lasagne, banning his roommate’s feeding rituals from his mind, and then prepared to hit the sack. He’d had a long day, and he’d have another one tomorrow.