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The center held two massive portions of lo mein and fried rice. Around them sat massive amounts of wings, dumplings, crab rangoon, egg rolls, chicken skewers, fried shrimp, and spring rolls.

Sloane swallowed hard. “I may have miscalculated.”

The manager placed a digital timer beside the platter. “Both people must eat. You can divide it however you want. Nothing can be removed from the table. You’ll have thirty minutes.”

“Do we have a strategy?” Sloane asked.

“You take the crab rangoon and dumplings.”

“I can help with the noodles, too,” she said.

“Start with what you know you can finish.”

She nodded seriously.

The manager held up his hand. “Ready?”

Sloane picked up a crab rangoon.

I positioned the rice bowl closer.

“Go.”

The timer started.

The first five minutes were easy. Sloane moved through the crab rangoon with impressive commitment while I handled the chicken skewers and rice. We divided the dumplings, then switched to noodles before they cooled.

People began cheering.

A child from the next booth shouted, “Eat faster!”

Sloane pointed at him while chewing. “He believes in us.”

At the ten-minute mark, the platter remained crowded but manageable.

At fifteen, the chicken wings became a problem. Sloane ate one, stared at the rest, and shook her head. “These are yours.”

“You’ve abandoned me.”

“I’m reallocating resources.”

I took another wing while she worked on the spring rolls and fried shrimp. The restaurant manager announced updates every few minutes, which encouraged the crowd and made giving up impossible.

At eighteen minutes, Sloane put down her fork. “I’ve reached the edge.”

“You still have half a dumpling.”

“The dumpling and I have reached an agreement.”

“Which is?”

“We will coexist separately.”

I pushed her water closer. “Take a minute.”

“Ugh,” was all she could say.

“I can finish most of what’s left.”