1-2-3-4 → 2-1-3-4 → 3-1-2-4 → 4-1-2-3
Dude is back in the kitchen again, this time unwrapping a ready meal, tossing it in the microwave. Very studenty approach to cooking. Must be on his own, or sharing with a friend. He’s got his laptop on the work surface and he’s typing furiously and smiling a big banana grin. Probably on one of those “social networking” sites on the internets, writing in text abbreviations about something perfectly daft. He’s got green dye in his hair, it looks absurd.
When the meal is ready, he lifts it sloppily from the microwave, dumping the rice and chicken on a plate, not mixing up the components. He must like them separate: most people mix the rice and sauce together, though it is served separately in restaurants. He takes it through to the main room: pitch dark save for a TV beaming in the distance, hard to make out. A minute later he grabs a knife and fork, types on his laptop, then takes them through. The kitchen door closes again and he resumes his typing. And laughing.