Good golly, Miss Molly, do Ian and John have a lot to commiserate over. Although food cubes don't even have the decency to pretend to be something else.

"Even better, if I can remember how this goes. I was probably fourteen the last time I saw one of these," he says, eyeing the buttons surrounding the replicator. Someone is using the unit right next door. Voice-activated. Handy. "Hey, how's it going? Can I get a plate of bacon and eggs, and a chocolate bar? Uh, please?"

The replicator chirps in response, and a female voice confirms their order. Within seconds, both the plate of food and the bar of chocolate appear in the dispenser.

"Houston, we have a chocolate bar!" John cries.