Progressive soup is great for so many things. Ask any elf and they’ll tell you that “For Eating” is nowhere near the top of that list. Vegetarian Vegetable?! Even the redundancy of the soup’s name is enough to make a glucovore’s stomach retch in dismissal. Ned decides it’s imperative to return to his diet consisting of 90% simple sugars. Phoebe’s candy drawer is just the place to start—the only spot to be honest. Ned’s lone complaint about his December home is the lack of consistent treat availability. He took it as a personal insult when he heard that Brad declined his mother’s offer of her annual shipment of Christmas cookies. That trust will take some time to earn back.

Having finished every treat in the candy drawer, Ned scoured the kitchen for hidden treasures. He did so under the auspice of preparing for the Big Guy’s rapidly approaching visit. Not seeing the dog on the front of the container, Ned performed his duty as taste-tester. To be fair to Ned, visual clues can be drowned out by the overwhelming sounds of a growling stomach. I once raided a friend’s freezer and consumed the lone remaining single-serve cup of ice cream—one of those little tubs they sell in middle schools that come with a miniature wooden tongue depressor as a spoon. A few days later, when the dog was about to be rewarded with a Frosty Paws Peanut Butter Flavor ice cream treat, I was told the lid I had tossed away was clearly labeled with a cartoon dog.