The rim of the breadcup tastes like salty crackers.

Even more shops and restaurants are dark by now, and the lighting on some of the side streets is shutting off. Slightly chanty-sounding songs spill out of the bars. It turns out that one of the nightclubs does triple business as a brothel and a casino (they give him a job offer).

A few police patrols seem to pay extra attention to him. It's probably just the wings. Someone offers him a 'silver circle' to repair their magic stove. "If ya know how, of course. I just don't want to wait for the utility company to get to me."