fandomhigh | Survive Your Own Cooking - 3rd period

"Good morning kids! At last it would be a good morning if any of you had wanted an A for the day and brought me coffee, but... We'll have to just live with caffeine-free B's I guess."

Oh, he was so very disappointed with them. So very disappointed.

"Today we'll be making pasta! Since I know you all can boil water without exploding anything-- and no, that isn't me giving anyone ideas about trying to add any sodium to it. Salt, yes, sodium no. Just as a word to the wise if anyone just so happens to be carrying it around in their pockets for the off-chance if might come in handy someday." Deadpool cleared his throat. "Which I don't do with my pouches. Shut up and get into groups of two!"

There was flour, salt, eggs and oil out and ready for them to use today. "Now, you can either have some fun like kids and Mario Batali, of course, and make it by hand... Oooooor you could go the lazy way and have the mixers do it for you. But that pasta better be the best damn thing I've ever tasted in my entire life or so help me god I will give you all F's that don't really mean anything!"

Scaaaaaary threats, right?

"Your partner can try making a sauce while the noodles are being made, mmmkay? Have fun!"

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"Whoa," Hurley said. "You got all sticky, dude." He chuckled.

"I think I probably need more flour," Jeff said, in a rare moment of insight, "I'd rather not poison mister Deadpool, he's already kidnapped me once." Even if they had gotten along a bit.

"Yeah, I wouldn't want that either," Hurley said.

Pause.

"Wait, dude kidnapped you?"

"I'm dating one of his minions," Jeff said, with a sort of apologetic shrug that implied what can you do? as he tried to remove the dough by shaking his hands a lot. It was sort of working. "He takes it very seriously."

"Mister Deadpool has minions?" Hurley said. "Like... evil minions?"

"Turtle's not evil," Jeff argued, immediately, wiping his hands on the side of the bowl. "She's not even near to naughty."

"Oh yeah," Hurley said, sorting through the ingredients. "Good point. I just... never heard minions used in a good way, I guess."

"It's mister Deadpool," Jeff pointed out, soaking the new mix in flour. Hey, that might help. "He's got his own sort of sense, you know?"

"Yeah, he's kinda like... his own special world, I guess," Hurley said. "With his own rules and stuff."

"Turtle's not really talking to him much," he continued, "He and mister Cable destroyed the store once." Jeff began the hard task of trying to knead the flour into the wet, wet dough.

Hurley started cutting tomatoes for a sauce. "I don't think I've met Mister Cable."

"I've seen him once," Jeff offered, "He's a bit tall." Sort of in the way mountains were a bit high. "And I've reported on him on radio a couple of times, but that's it. Turtle's angry at them, though."

"For the store breaking?" Hurley said. "I can see why that'd make her mad."

"It's a lot like she's symbiotically bound to it," Jeff said, taking the time to gesture, doughy hands or not.

"Bet you wish she was, like, bound to you, instead," Hurley joked, putting the tomatoes into a saucepan.

Jeff looked scandalized. "No," he said, "The shop comes with the package. She loves that shop."

"It was just a joke, dude," Hurley said. "I... nevermind, guess it wasn't funny."

"Oh," Jeff said, pausing to process all of that. "Sorry, the shop is a bit of an emotional subject."

Turtle held all the blame there.

"She, like, owns it and stuff, right?" Hurley said. "I can see how that'd make it important."

He started dicing some garlic.

"She doesn't just own it, she's one with it," Jeff replied, and decided his dough had about the right consistency, so he tossed it on the table. "Turtle's been running that store for longer than most people have had legs."

"...legs?" Hurley said. That wasn't a saying he was familiar with, really.

"Actually," Jeff continued, not to be stopped by such a thing as logic or questions, "I think she had the shop back when fish were learning to crawl."

"I think she's a bit younger than that," Hurley said. "But I get what you're saying, dude."

"Just seems a bit like I've known her forever, right?" Jeff mumbled, poking at the dough. Machine. Pasta machine! Right. "...It's still sticky."

"More flour?" Hurley said. "Maybe?"

Re: Make Pasta!

scary-jeff.livejournal.com - 2008-11-12 21:10 (UTC) - Expand

likes-chicken.livejournal.com - 2008-11-12 21:16 (UTC) - Expand

Survive Your Own Cooking - 3rd period - (11/12)

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