"I don't know," Raylan said. "It happens when you don't eat vegetables. And it's bad."

He was walking down the hallway towards Rachette, more to get away from the kitchens than anything. As he was walking, though, the door opened and a brownish, mushy lemon was chucked at the back of Raylan's head. He yelped and rubbed the spot where it had hit as he looked down at the sad thing on the floor. Clearly past its prime, and probably why the cook had been willing to waste it to express her indignation.