For the hungry teenager in the wild, an older woman is never a difficult target, and this is certainly no exception for vaguely-alien old women and hungry mutant teenagers. When she walked a little too close for comfort, a four-fingered, green hand slipped into her purse and retrieved...

...Doritos®! Alright, [i]score[/i], man! And here, Mort had been expecting something unfamiliar entirely. As he pocketed the pilfered goods, he pondered the existence of Doritos® in other timelines and their effect on inter-dimensional communities. Had the Doritos® companies merged with each other to expand their field of influence to uncharted target groups? Had one Doritos® dimension claimed copyright over the others? Many questions to be explored for such a tiny bag of snacks. 

When the sounds of one-sided arguing filtered in from across the station, Mort cocked his head to the source and his eyes met two anthropomorphized--foxes, maybe? He faintly remembered playing a game with characters who looked like these when he was really little, before the realities sequenced, but a lot of fictional media was pulled from the shelves afterwards so that no one's life story was revealed to them (they'd done it for his reality too, but apparently in most dimensions he'd run for one season and got, like, five minutes screen time tops. M-Earth-8096 was a crapshoot. 11052? Now that's where all the big bucks were). The two, who were now hugging it out, had drawn enough attention to themselves and vicariously away from suspicious-looking green dudes that Mort was able to clear a jump to the ceiling of the station without being noticed. From here, he crawled to the shadowy part of where pillar met ceiling, where it was unlikely anyone would notice him.

Mortimer smirked. Mission [i]"Hitchhike a S.P.R.E.A.D Shuttle"[/i] phase 1 was a success.