#8. sam be wanting some food.

[ipuckett.livejournal.com]

Please tell me you're going to make spaghetti tacos.


[and alas, there is the sound of rapid stirring coming from Sam's end of the journal, perhaps a few splatters of a familiar brown liquid hitting the page every time she gets a little too zealous with her movements.

guess what she's preparing for the potluck. I dare you.]

So. Tenth floor. When are we going to get our food on? [and a pause as she licks the spoon she's using to stir her concoction, proceeding to smack her lips before...

yes, putting it back into the pan in order to stir it a little more. oh Sam.]

Because I'm making tons of gravy and I need stuff to pour it on!

Comments

[asitcouldbe.livejournal.com]

I've never been that good of a cook.

[ipuckett.livejournal.com]

Just make a couple of sandwiches, slice them into smaller portions. Or cube some cheese. [a beat] Chopping some pork ain't too bad, either.

[asitcouldbe.livejournal.com]

I wonder if the castle will accept that.

[ipuckett.livejournal.com]

I'm pretty sure some people are going to be doing less.

[asitcouldbe.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure how much I feel like tempting fate.