fandomtownies | Luke's, Thursday

Priestly was attempting to figure out what kind of paperwork you had to do when an employee died. It was generally easier than focusing on the fact that one of his employees had died -- and he'd found out about it by listening to the radio. So far, all he'd managed to turn up were piles of information about workmen's comp, which didn't really seem like it applied. At all. In any possible way.

The fact that the kitchen staff kept wandering by, seeing the workmen's comp info, and fussing about various burns and cuts and things that came standard with spending your professional life surrounded by knives and fire wasn't helping things at all.

"I'm going to fire every single one of you," Priestly threatened finally. "Every goddamn single one."

And that's how he ended up with a stack of contracts guaranteeing employment in perpetuity added to his pile of paperwork.

Today's specials
Tuna casserole
Another, slightly different tuna casserole
Apple pie

Luke's was open ~~and OCD-less~~.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Bay had gotten a kind of sick relief out of hearing Gert's death announced on the radio. It was terrible to hear it said so baldly, but at least she didn't have to worry people didn't know anymore.

But she still needed to have to have a few in-person conversations, including one with Priestly.

"Hey," she said, leaning on the counter and eyeing his pile of paperwork. "That is a whole lot of forms."

"And such is now my life," Priestly confirmed. He looked up, tipping his head. "You doing alright?"

He didn't know either her or Gert especially well, but he'd heard enough to know they were friends -- and that Bay was the one who'd had to break the news.

Bay shrugged one shoulder. She could tell from Priestly's tone it hadn't been an idle question.

"I guess, other than the hiding in my room and hating on God a lot. But I'm functional and everything."

"That all sounds pretty much about par for the course," Priestly said. "I'm really sorry. Gert was a great person."

"She was amazing," Bay agreed. "I'm not exactly the type to make a gazillion friends, so finding somebody like her that I could connect to -- it was special."

Priestly nodded. "Is she. . . ." Okay, how to ask this? "Was she from a world where she might . . . come back?"

Honestly, around here you never knew how permanent these situations would necessarily be.

That was an interesting question.

"I guess?" she said. "I mean, the guy who killed her was a time traveler who's dead in real life. So crazy things could still happen." Quirking a small smile, she added, "If she comes back after dying on us like this, I swear I will kick her ass."

"And then I'll make you both a pie," Priestly promised. "You want something to eat? We have . . . apparently kind of a lot of tuna casserole. Or I could make something." He poked at his stack of paperwork. "Please, please tell me to make you something."

"Make me something," Bay deadpanned, then thought about it. "... actually, food sounds good. Um. Not tuna noodle casserole" -- because ew -- "but maybe chicken satay? I need peanut butter but not dessert."

[OOC: Sorry for vanishing! Didn't want to pay for wifi last night.]

"I can totally do a satay," Priestly said. "I'm honestly not entirely sure where the tuna casseroles came from. It could be the cook, it could be Fandom. I've stopped trying to guess."

"If the island made them happen, I definitely don't want to eat them," Bay said. "No way of being sure it's really tuna."

"But ... probably it's just the chef."

"I seriously don't want to think about what it could be if it wasn't tuna."

Flying zombie sharks, maybe.

Okay, so apparently he did want to think about it.

"I could give you a list," Bay offered with a smirk. "The best thing on it is tofu."

"See, innocuous plant matter hadn't occurred to me at all."

"I am yet to be convinced tofu is innocuous," Bay replied. "My sister's the only person I know who can even make it edible."

"So that's not true," Priestly said, mock-offended. "Tofu's totally innocuous. It literally just tastes like whatever it's cooked with. The key is to actually cook it. Let it toughen up a little so it's not just like you're eating a sponge."

"If you can cook it so it doesn't taste like mushy nothing, I wanna try it," Bay said. "Usually the texture's just weird."

"Have you had baked tofu?" Priestly asked. "That's usually the best 'cold on a salad' option. It's denser than what you've probably usually encountered. I usually cube it really small, so you can get it with lots of the other salad stuff. Crumbled in a stirfry is also good for tofu newbies. Basically comes out like scrambled eggs."

"Daphne fries it, and that's not totally horrible," Bay allowed. "Now I want to try the scrambled thing." A beat. "Can you make scrambled tofu with bacon, or is that sacrilege?"

"I actually place zero moral value on food choices," Priestly said. "So if you're down with bacony tofu, I can make bacony tofu. Though I might insist you add something green to the whole meal."

"You drive a hard bargain," Bay said. "Okay, no satay, bacony tofu, and ... green beans. Please."

"Coming right up," Priestly said. "Grab yourself a drink if you like."

Luke's, Thursday

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject