Luke's Diner; Tuesday [07/23].

[chef_chocobro]

Although he was blissfully unaware of any crimes to French cooking being committed in other parts of the island that day, Ignis could not deny a certain inspiration moving him in the kitchen that day. He would blame it on his class and their visit to Champagne last week still lingering, before his attention shifted toward their next location. Ah, well. He certainly wasn't going to question where the inspiration for his recipehs came from when they moved him this much. He was just going to get into the kitchen and cook.

Little did he know how much he should enjoy it while he could.

Today's Specials
Summer Tomato Bouillabaisse with Basil Rouille
Mushroom Bourguignon
Crullers Two Ways:
Blueberry Honey and Salted Maple Butter

Luke's is open!

Comments

[single_man_tear]

"Hey, Ignis," Dean said, sauntering into the diner. "Been a while. Can I get three breakfast burritos to go? Gotta feed the beast... and by beast, I mean me. And maybe a homicidal chair."

[chef_chocobro]

"Dean," Ignis greeted back with a nod. "Of course. Standard fillings, I suppose, or did you have any special requests? Or anything you might feel might appeal a bit more to this...homicidal...chair?"

Funny how, despite being at the Consortium nearly weekly, he had so little issues with the chair that he'd nearly forgotten that was even a thing! Although, yes, now that he said it, he did recall that there had been such an upstart piece of furniture there at some point, although he'd mostly just assumed that, like some thing at the shop, it had since either been sold or simply ceased to be anything of note.

[single_man_tear]

Well there had been a mellowing at one point between Dean and the chair. And then Dean played a mild prank on Ignis' lady friend and she insisted the chair make Dean a snack.

So. You know. Typical island hijinx.

"Do you know if crazy chairs have anything that they shouldn't eat?" Dean asked, hopefully. "Like... lactose free cheese?"

[chef_chocobro]

"I'd honestly be more inclined to think that the lactose in cheese would be more likely to be an issue," Ignis pointed out, "unless you believe the chair might have a soy allergy. I suppose we could always throw in one with proper egg and cheese and another with a tofu scramble and see how each works. Although I am, admittedly, a bit....confused. Do you want to give it something it shouldn't eat?"

That hopeful tone certainly seemed to lead him to thinking so.

"Are we hoping to make it more homicidal....or less?"

[single_man_tear]

“I would like to teach the chair a lesson,” Dean replied. “A very important lesson. So… ghost peppers?”

[chef_chocobro]

Ignis opened his mouth for a moment to say something, something most likely akin to the fact that he had a feeling that, if anyone was getting taught a lesson, it might very well be Dean, and then closed his mouth as he reconsidered. Someone would be learning a lesson either way; it could be the chair, it could be Dean. He just hoped it wasn't himself, in that however this turned out didn't come back to bite him in the ass, as if he were the one sitting in the chair after all, when Liliana had to deal with the fallout.

"We may have some Carolina reapers around in the pantry as well," he finally offered, after a very long moment. "Although, if I may....what, exactly, is the lesson we're planning to teach it here?"

Not that he meant to question your methods, Dean, of course. However....

[single_man_tear]

Look, Dean’s methods and lessons should definitely be questioned. Absolutely.

Dean leaned against the counter, eyes narrowed. “The lesson here is that it shouldn’t try to take a bite out of me,” he said grimly, adding with a smirk, “with a burrito that’s got more heat than a sauna in hell.”

[chef_chocobro]

Again, Ignis' mouth opened. He made it so far as an inhale of a breath to eventually form words before it closed again. He frowned, slightly, and then ventured, "Wouldn't it be more effective, if your goal was to teach it not to eat you, to give it something that would reveal that there were, in fact, far more delicious things to consume instead? It would seem to me that feeding it an incredibly hot burrito would only teach it to avoid eating more potentially spicy burritos, which I can only assume you are not."

He did rather dislike the fact that this entire conversation was only proving to him that he had no way of knowing whether or not Dean was actually burrito shaped.

"Now," he then suggested, because he considered himself a problem solver, thank you, "if you were to make it so that you tasted quite unpleasant when it bit you, that would be a different matter."

[single_man_tear]

“Well… there are certain people in the world who say I am quite spicy,” Dean said, smugly. “Some might even say caliente. But if you say there’s an alternative lesson that will work better, I’m all ears.”

[chef_chocobro]

And which was truly worse, Ignis? The fact that you were previous imagining Dean looking like a burrito, or that he was now apparently just a stalk of a man covered in ears?

There was a joke in there, probably relating to corn, but Ignis neither trusted himself to make it nor for Dean to get it, so he decided it was best to just move on.

"Well," he said, "if the goal is to prevent the chair from biting you, it would seem the goal would be to make such a prospect as unpalatable as possible. Considering it's a chair, I assume its most frequent method of attack is to go straight for the posterior. Perhaps, then, if those ghost peppers and Carolina reapers were not, per se, in a burrito meant as a poor distraction and disconnected punishment, but instead, rather, in your back pockets....Unless that chair is also a glutton for a level of heat even beyond that which is provided by your natural charms, then, no doubt it would certain think twice before its next chomp..."

[single_man_tear]

"So, your suggestion is to stuff my pockets with ghost peppers and then offer it my ass," Dean reiterated, deadpan. "I'm not sure I'm willing to sacrifice my posterior for a lesson like that. My butt's got standards, you know."

[deathsmajesty]

Liliana was currently unaware of the dangerous games Dean was playing with her chair and the happier for it. She swept into the diner with her usual panache, over to the counter with the focus of a woman on a mission. Which she was.

Someone needed to be kissed.

[chef_chocobro]

This was very true, someone did need to be kissed. But imagine Greg's disappointment when it was revealed that the narrative was not referring to him.

Unless....

And Liliana's ignorance of any grand scheme that may be occurring in the shop today would continue to be postponed just that small bit longer, as Ignis would happily put a pin in his warning to focus on meeting that need in a way more aligned with what the narrative was more likely referring to.

"Hello, my love," he greeted, with a soft smile and a hand on her cheek both lingering after that kiss. "Are you hungry?"

[deathsmajesty]

Perhaps if Greg stopped bathing in patchouli, he'd be more likely to get kisses from people. Just a thought.

But regardless of how he felt getting breezed by en route to Ignis, Liliana was quite certain of her destination and was proven infinitely correct in her choice yet again with the kiss that followed. "Always," she murmured. "And somehow growing ever hungrier."

And so she kissed him once more. You know, to see if that would help.