Four lines of prose that revolve around the word: complimentary.
Long day of harvesting and preparing for the market. Kat's dad is coming with me to the market tomorrow, which I believe is a first for him. Should be fun.
He walked around the hotel room, his stunned eyes struggling to take it all in. There was a price tag on everything: ten cents per flick of the light switch; five cents every time the channel was changed on the TV; a dollar for the tiny tube of toothpaste; and on and on.
"Well, at least the toilet is complimentary, right honey?"
His wife didn't need to say anything - the look she gave him from the dark confines of the bathroom was all the answer he required.