Xaviers!

"Crud... he really isn't here Bro."

Bruce fought to resist the delicious distractions around him as he tried to sniff out which cylinder smelled most like the goop.

So... much... meat... must... not... eat...

None of the cylinders here smelled like Will -- it stood to reason that whichever cylinders DID have Will in it had been shipped out and not yet returned.

The two full cylinders were waiting there, though, if Bruce wanted a bite to eat.

"Uuungh... I can't take it!" Bruce groaned, opening a cylinder to examined the contents.

Don't you dare! We don't even know what it is!

The contents weren't exactly the most appetizing thing in the known universe, but hey -- meat product!

It was hardened, rendered, processed fat -- greasy, but solid. It was a yellowish white, with a vaguely waxy texture. IT had some of that same smell that was floating around the room -- like the aftermath if a herd of cows had joined a gym and were showering off after a sweaty, hard day of working out -- though it wasn't as strong as it was in the room itself.

This was, apparently, what Finn was shipping out.

Bruce's face became even uglier as he wrinkled his snout. "Grody." He closed the cylinder. He did, however, snag some hanging jerky before becoming Tosh again and leaving.