She didn't know how long it had been. A few days, maybe—a week at most, she estimated. But she didn't know how much more she could take.

Scootaloo sat in the pantry on the lower level of the ship, facing the counter on the far wall. One of the bottom drawers lay open, with one of those damned green boxes clearly visible inside. She looked at it. The box seemed to stare right back despite its eyelessness, daring her to reach forward and grab it. Scootaloo resisted.

Who even in the hay was Gamsco? And why would they be so proud of these bizarre ball-shaped foods that they would deign to plaster their name on each box of the stuff? Scootaloo couldn't see why anypony would want to be associated with this food that was so egregiously bland and vaguely dirt-flavoured. She wasn't sure how she was able to keep her stomach full by just eating them until she had checked the package, where the nutrition facts revealed that each "Gamsco's" contained a surprisingly good mixture of protein, fiber, and various nutrients. No, not the healthiest thing in the world, but pretty good for keeping her alive with nothing else to eat. But that didn't make them suck any less.

Scootaloo finally reached her hooves out into the drawer; her stomach was starting to feel knotted up with emptiness. The box felt light; upon inspection, there appeared to only be a small mound of the things at the bottom. There were, however, the other boxes in the other drawers. Scootaloo reached a hoof in and scooped one out. She popped it in her mouth and chewed and chewed as fast as she could, trying to quickly get it out of her mouth so she didn't have to taste it. This didn't really make it any better. Her only comfort was when she washed it down with a cool swallow of water a minute later.