Third Floor Common Room - Sunday Morning

[likethegun]

After dealing with monsters and ghosts the night before, Sam had almost forgotten about his promise to Dean to help him with brunch in the morning. They'd made a run into town for more eggs, and some bacon, and Dean was busy fixing the real food while Sam made toast. It was a much safer operation that way, really.

[OOC: Open to anyone who wants free food!]

Comments

[fates_jaye]

"How about King Dork, He is a dork, I'd like to hit him with a spork..."

[peter--parker.livejournal.com]

"I think you need medication," Peter said.

[fates_jaye]

"I think you need another verse. King Dork, he's from New York, I don't know his religion so maybe he doesn't eat pork..."

Rhyming's hard.

[peter--parker.livejournal.com]

"And you're still claiming you're not a dork?" Peter asked. "Maybe you're on too many meds."

[fates_jaye]

Jaye's too busy thinking of other words. "Fork, gork, hork, jork, kork... Ooh, cork!"

[peter--parker.livejournal.com]

"Oh, so you've been drinking," Peter said. "Of course, that explains it!"

[fates_jaye]

"No, that's possibly Wednesday. Lork, mork, nork, did pork already, rork..."

[peter--parker.livejournal.com]

"Are you sure you're not still drunk from last Wednesday?" Peter asked. "Maybe two Wednesdays ago?"

[fates_jaye]

"Positive. Sork, tork- ooh, that's a word..."

[peter--parker.livejournal.com]

"I don't want to know how you're going to work 'toque' into this song," Peter sighed.

[fates_jaye]

"I'll find a way. Vork, work... Ooh, maybe if I mispronounce it..."

[peter--parker.livejournal.com]

Peter sighed. "Quark, Mickey Roarke, Zork - which was an old computer game, I don't expect you to know that, stork, Orc - which is something whose intelligence I'm reminded of while talking to you, and Björk - who is sane compared to you," Peter said. "That should be enough."

[fates_jaye]

"Thanks," she says, already writing the other lyrics in her head.