ACCEPT COOKIES?

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October, 1986. Ministry of Confectionery Control, Border Post 04. Between the cookie jar and the plate lies the most important border in the kitchen. Thirty centimeters of countertop, one desk, one lamp, and you: a humble biscuit pack with a rubber stamp and a family to feed back in the jar. Every cookie that wants to reach the plate has to get through you. Most are honest. Some are expired. Some are lying about who they are. And some are hiding something green under that nice little hat. Because somewhere in the dark, a milk jug with a magnificent mustache has started Operation Poison, slipping toxic cookies into the line to make customs look like fools. The human on the other side of the plate is waiting. He can't live without his cookies. But one bad batch, and he won't live at all. Accept cookies?