fandomhigh | (no subject)

The Chef saunters into the cafeteria. Yes, saunters, like a damned cowboy. You can actually hear him singing Garth Brooks. He's got an evil look on his face. Well, mischievious. Das Schnitzel practically skips in with the same grin on her face. The school has gotten boring. People fighting. Nobody is sharing the love. This disturbed both the Chef and Das Schnitzel who were both hippies back in the day. But today, oh today they will share the love. They were going to stick love potion in the food but they decided to save that for Valentines Day. It was expensive after all.

No today was going to be quite...musical.

Hellu leettle-a buys und gurls! Tudey ve'fe-a gut sume-a fery speceeel fuud fur yuoo!

-Peunoot Bootter und Jelly Sundveeches

-Hem und Cheese-a Sundveeches

-A chueece-a ooff ieezeer putetu cheeps oor cheetus

Thees fuud is su guud, it veell hefe-a yuoo seenging! Hefe-a a guud dey keeds! Shere-a zee luve-a! Bork Bork Bork!

He figured he gave them some warning. But he didn't out and say that the PB&J will have you singing The Carpenters all day and the lucky kids who ate the Ham and Cheese will be groovin' to ABBA.

((I had to use the word saunters dammit. Stupid Wizard People, Dear Reader. It got it stuck in my head.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Wilson managed to find the cafeteria the way people normally find such places. He followed his nose.

He was a doctor on a mission and so after a cursory inspection of the different foodstuffs available, which he was not about to touch, he walked towards a spot he hoped would allow his voice to be heard back in the kitchen.

"Hello? Is anyone back there? My name is Doctor James Wilson, from at the Clinic? I'd like to talk to whoever is in charge?"

The Swedish Chef pokes his head out from underneath a table and smiles at the man.

Hellu Ductur mun! I em zee Svedeesh Cheff und I em in cherge-a here. Hoo mey I be-a ooff esseestunce-a?

................

This just kept getting better and better and...okay, tonight he was getting drunk off his ass. Maybe even getting into House's Vicodin supply.

"Ah...hello. Um, Chef I've just come from the clinic where I had a young man who...claims he ate a ham and cheese sandwich from here and started to sing ABBA? Every time he opens his mouth. Do you...I mean...has anyone else reported anything strange?"

The Chef laughs a hearty laugh.

"Off cuoorse-a he-a sterted seenging! I tuld zeem thet zee fuud vuoold hefe-a zeem seenging! Boot nut tu vurry, it veell veer ooffff effter a foo huoors. Meybe zee lad shuoold hefe-a hed zee peunoot bootter und jelly. He-a seemed mure-a ooff a Cerpenters type-a tu me-a. Bork Bork Bork!"

The oncologist stood there, swallowing on his words a couple of times before he managed to eek out.

"A few hours...wear off...okay. Uh, that's all I needed to know. Thank you, Chef."

Wilson gave the ma...err...puppet...a rueful smile and then turned to head out back to the Clinic.

Wow...yes, tonight he was going to be very drunk.