The brightly-coloured cans and cigarette packets seem even more vivid upon your return.

The brightly-coloured cans and cigarette packets seem even more vivid upon your return.

Steal money from the vending machine.

Buy some Sturdy Pony cigarettes.

The packet makes a satisfying thunk as it hits the well.

No coin, no horse-themed nicotine.

Buy some RUMBA! canned coffee.

The can makes a pleasant thunk as it lands.

Your pockets are empty. Your mouth waters, tasting only bile.

THE BITTER ICHOR OF POVERTY.

Buy Wiśnia Hard Gummies.

They land in the well with a formidable, intimidating weight.

You shake your pockets and find only dust and regret.

Leave.

If you change your mind, they'll still be here -- dormant in their artificially chilled chamber.

In the machine aisles is a line-up of smokes, candy, and canned coffee.

It strikes you that the machine is within clear sight of the bartender at all times.

The gall! She who toils and sweats, while the vending automaton does nothing but dispense cheerfully, uncaringly, and at a significant price markup.

She could use the help, probably. Maybe she likes the machine.

Put yourself in her shoes and imagine if you would so blindly tolerate an automaton that seeks to replace you.

No machine can ever understand the value of money. Therefore, it does not deserve yours -- or anyone else's.

Money exists like a theatre to a machine -- flesh-beings trading paper and metal in futile hope that it will solve their differences.

I value your labour, barmaid!

Prove it.

SOLIDARITY MUST BECOME PRAXIS.

Must save her some time not having to serve everyone who walks in here.

It helps, for now, but it may come to pass that it grows in number and replaces her entirely.

FEEL NO REMORSE IF YOU CHOOSE TO STEAL FROM IT, FOR IT IS STEALING FROM THE PEOPLE.

Seems a little... rude.