Once Roadhog takes his repurposed plate, Junkrat returns to his station and picks up his own -- just a small version of the same salad. He's not hungry because he has no appetite, but rather because he's been pretty consistently snacking like a bird throughout the day. Settling in on the other chair unoccupied by gear, Junkrat contently nurses his own salad with his own dirty fingers, watching Hog intensely, hungrily awaiting the critique (or praise). A grin spreads over his face at the tilt of his sandwich, giving the other a casual salute. He minds his own business after then until movement catches his peripheral vision: Roadhog asking for seconds.

"Oh, yeah. One tic," he says, reaching out and taking the hubcap from him and throwing another sandwich for him, this time without a salad. He has infinite space, sure, but that doesn't mean he has infinite things inside the storage. The hubcap and new sandwich is returned to Roadhog on Junkrat's way back inside the camper. There's a little bit of rustling around, but whatever he's working on, he won't bring it outside and allow Roadhog to see it.

With impeccable timing, as soon as Roadhog polishes off the second sandwich, another hubcap is lowered over his shoulder. On it lays one big banana, split lengthwise, the cavity between the halves filled with giant scoops of strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate ice cream, drizzled with chocolate syrup, topped with whipped cream and maraschino cherries. It's not really fancy in its presentation, because this kind of ice cream is kind of hard to scoop into picture-perfect spheres, but at least it comes with a utensil this time: a wooden spoon.

"Ta daa!"