Marksplinter, the insatiable neighbor, welcomes you into his sweaty, sudor-drenched abode. He's just taken delivery of some new, piping hot calzones, but he's not interested in their savory aroma. Instead, he's drawn to the naughty, forbidden scent of his neighbor's delicate, unwashed calzones. He fingers the worn fabric, feeling the warmth and dampness, before finally tearing into the soiled garment, revealing the tantalizing sight and scent of his neighbor's used, leche-stained calzones.