Lacey was never complaining about Brent's fondness for chili cheese dogs on the basis of nutritional concerns again. Ever again.

"I . . . could," she said slowly, hoping she didn't look too much like a deer in the headlights. "The jelly might, um . . . leak out in the fryer, though. Maybe if we sort of crimped down the bread around the edges, sort of like a hot pocket?"

[OOC: Ahem. Please excuse the limited icons until I re-up on paid time.]