Hi-tech lore.

Every day around noon, the Atidim hi-tech park becomes a hunting zone. Small packs of smartly dressed people, with a desperate look in their eyes flood the streets. They are nervous, they're hungry, and they won't take no for an answer. They hold on to their weapons, the company-issued dining cards, and they're moving in for a kill. "Look", someone cries, "the line at the Trambo-Bambo restaurant is getting shorter!". The whole pack zooms in. "What are they serving?" some newcomer asks. "I have no idea", some old-timer answers, "they just opened last week". A bewildered waitress tries to make sense out of her own menu, but in vain. "Most people order number 5", she says. Some cave in, but some persist. "I'll take the creamed ravioli with parmesan, and the spring salad, hold the tomatoes". The waitress disappears, and so does the hope of being served. Some steaks are lost en route. Some eggplants taste like accumulator fluid. Some gnocchi tastes like cardboard. But it doesn't matter. Everything will be consumed to the last bit, a steep price will be deducted from the dining card, and the whole party will leisurly walk back to their abandoned cubicles, discussing the latest events. The hunt was a hit.