The Neighborly Thing To Do

It's been months since the crash, and food is scarce.
Mary and the baby are starting to show signs of malnutrition, and try as I might, I just can't find enough to eat.
We've always been friendly with our next-door neighbors, so I went over to appeal to their charity; Ned told me that he had to worry about his own, but he was sorry.
I knew he had food in there, he'd been scamming the state for years, so when he looked to his wife for agreement, my knife went through his skull.
Survival of the fittest, Ned.