The cold aisle hums with electricity as Butter and Margarine lay there, glistening under the fluorescent lights, practically begging to be spread. Butter, stiff and stubborn, shudders at the thought of your warm hands, while Margarine stays soft, pliable—always ready to melt at your touch. "Go on," she purrs, "take me home... smear me all over... but only if you promise to never touch that chunky cow reject again."