Room 505: Tuesday Night

[thatsamilkshake]

Thoroughly showered and de-veggie-gutted, Francine, wet hair draped over her shoulder, was picking at way too much take-out from the diner and eying the tray of lemon squares like she might just skip dinner entirely and go straight to dessert.

Any resemblance to the picking she was doing at events of this week in general or last night in particular was purely coincidental. In some universe.

[OOC: For various members of the clustre du fucque.]

Comments

[bitchprince]

"Yes," Arthur said, dryly, "I'd noticed that."

Slightly less awkward than the last time this happened, yes.

[thatsamilkshake]

"I can make burgers, though." She was just too damned lazy when she could get them in a bag made by somebody else with that characteristic diner-grease flavor. "If you want them." It might even be warm enough to grill some on the deck, still, if the weather stayed nice.

[bitchprince]

"Cheeseburgers, perhaps," Arthur mused, contemplating his burger. "Tomorrow evening, or the day after."

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine eyed hers. "Possibly without lettuce and tomatoes." Which she'd specifically ordered these without, yes.

[bitchprince]

"Ben Skywalker and I considered the idea of a meal consisting entirely of steak, bacon, and sausages," Arthur said, thoughtfully. "Perhaps that's the best option. For tomorrow."

[thatsamilkshake]

That didn't sound half bad, though Francine had to add, "Eggs?"

[bitchprince]

"Why not."

Sure, Arthur, pile that up like she won't be the one making it.

[thatsamilkshake]

"It's kind of illegal to make bacon without eggs, if it's not going in something else."

It was like he didn't get that she'd be making gigantic rashers of everything and feeding herself and Katchoo for days too, with enough left over for a hungry raptor.