So... um... yeah... Takes place just after you first meet the Assassin crew... ~*~*~ "Where's the kitchen in this joint?" Desmond asked. It was 4 pm, and he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He was starving.
"Downstairs, thee doorway to the right of the stairs," Rebecca said. "Grabbing a snack? Bring me something too!"
When Desmond got to said kitchen, though, he was dismayed by its contents. Nothing but Kraft Dinner, Chef Boyardee, and other pre-made food.
There wasn't even ground beef. He had been living on the run and still had ground beef. This was unacceptable.
Rummaging through the cupboards, he found sugar and peanut butter. Better than nothing.
The fridge had some eggs, and they were still good.
A quick glance at the peanut butter to confirm the recipe and he got to work.
It didn't take Rebecca long to become curious and hunt him down. She found him with his sleeves rolled up, up to his wrists in cookie dough.
"Really Desmond, your hands?" was all she said as the attempted to snap some batter.
"Well if the hideout had beaters, I would be using them," Desmond said as he blocked her. "Make yourself useful - try to find Chipits."
"Some what?"
"Chocolate chips. Or peanut butter chips, but I doubt you'll have those, considering the sad state of this kitchen."
"Who died and made you kitchen guru?"
"Do you want cookies?"
"Shutting up."
Desmond was right in doubting the existence of chocolate chips, or any kind of chips besides the potato kind. Unfortunately, they would have to do without. Good thing that the hideout actually had milk.
After about five minutes of the cookies being in the oven, Lucy came down to check up on them. She found Rebecca and Desmond sharing stories about being raised as assassins. She stayed to listen in. It had nothing to do with the scent of cookies that was slowly filling the room.
"Is anybody here planning on doing some actual work today?" Shaun asked as he entered the kitchen. The cookies had just finished, and Desmond was trying to find oven mitts.
Even Shaun shut up for a moment when the cookies were finally ready to eat.
The vote was unanimous. No one was allowed to touch the kitchen but Desmond. Ever. ~*~*~ I just see the assassins like starving college students - they don't care what they eat, as long as it's somewhat edible. Desmond does not approve. It ain't a cake, or even muffins, but it's baking.
Those cookies exist. They're on the Kraft Peanut Butter label.
The Cake is a Lie, but come try my cookies...
Takes place just after you first meet the Assassin crew...
~*~*~
"Where's the kitchen in this joint?" Desmond asked. It was 4 pm, and he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He was starving.
"Downstairs, thee doorway to the right of the stairs," Rebecca said. "Grabbing a snack? Bring me something too!"
When Desmond got to said kitchen, though, he was dismayed by its contents. Nothing but Kraft Dinner, Chef Boyardee, and other pre-made food.
There wasn't even ground beef. He had been living on the run and still had ground beef. This was unacceptable.
Rummaging through the cupboards, he found sugar and peanut butter. Better than nothing.
The fridge had some eggs, and they were still good.
A quick glance at the peanut butter to confirm the recipe and he got to work.
It didn't take Rebecca long to become curious and hunt him down. She found him with his sleeves rolled up, up to his wrists in cookie dough.
"Really Desmond, your hands?" was all she said as the attempted to snap some batter.
"Well if the hideout had beaters, I would be using them," Desmond said as he blocked her. "Make yourself useful - try to find Chipits."
"Some what?"
"Chocolate chips. Or peanut butter chips, but I doubt you'll have those, considering the sad state of this kitchen."
"Who died and made you kitchen guru?"
"Do you want cookies?"
"Shutting up."
Desmond was right in doubting the existence of chocolate chips, or any kind of chips besides the potato kind. Unfortunately, they would have to do without. Good thing that the hideout actually had milk.
After about five minutes of the cookies being in the oven, Lucy came down to check up on them. She found Rebecca and Desmond sharing stories about being raised as assassins. She stayed to listen in. It had nothing to do with the scent of cookies that was slowly filling the room.
"Is anybody here planning on doing some actual work today?" Shaun asked as he entered the kitchen. The cookies had just finished, and Desmond was trying to find oven mitts.
Even Shaun shut up for a moment when the cookies were finally ready to eat.
The vote was unanimous. No one was allowed to touch the kitchen but Desmond. Ever.
~*~*~
I just see the assassins like starving college students - they don't care what they eat, as long as it's somewhat edible.
Desmond does not approve.
It ain't a cake, or even muffins, but it's baking.
Those cookies exist. They're on the Kraft Peanut Butter label.