"Infinite" snippets

Excerpts from Infinite Jest (p. 627-628):

Stice, oblivious, bites into his sandwich like it's the wrist of an assailant. The only sound at the table for the first few minutes is of forkwork and mastication and the slight gasping of sounds of people trying to breathe while they eat. You rarely speak for the first few minutes here, eating. Supper is deadly-serious. Some of the kids even start in on their trays while still in line at the milk dispenser. Now Coyle bites in. Wayne has made his entree into a sandwich and lowers and bites. Keith Freers' eyes are half-closed as his jaw muscles bulge and slacken. Some of the players' inlcined heads are hard to see over the height of their food. Struck and Schacht, side by side, bite in sync and chew. The one at the table not eating like a refugee is Trevor Axford, who as a small child in Short Beach CT once fell off his bike onto his head and received a tiny lesion-type brain injury after which all food everywhere tastes horrible to him. His clearest explanation of the way food tastes to him is that it tastes the way vomit smells. He's discouraged from speaking at meals and holds his nose while he eats and eats with the neutrual joyless expression of someody dispensing fuel into his car.