Second floor common room, all Friday afternoon

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

The kitchenette counters in the common room were covered in all sorts of unusual things this afternoon: bowls, spoons, cheese graters, half a lobster, bits of lego. A cheery tuneless song with lyrics written entirely in gibberish came from behind the counter as someone rummaged through the fridge. Finally, the door shut, and a slightly deranged looking Hamlet stood up, wearing a quickly assembled version of the Swedish Chef's outfit.

As he continued singing and rummaging through the cupboards for things, he stood up a large sign against the counter:




Brunch cooked while you wait!
The chef will try his best to cook whatever you want!
Børk! Børk! Børk!


Moral of the day: don't eat strange cupcakes that are lying out in the open. They do weird things to your head.


[OOC: So very open.]

Comments

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

The Danish Chef gave Annette a look. "It's nut eleefe-a. It's joost a ceke-a. Jepunes cekes get ell telky telky iff yuoo dun't heet zeem veet zee cakenschmooscher. Bork Bork Bork!"

[misshargrove.livejournal.com]

"Oh." Shows what she knows.

"Can I hit it?" That would be kind of cool. Right? Beating the crap out of a cake?

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

"Certeeenly!" said the Danish Chef, passing her the cakenschmooscher. "Try tu heet it reeght in zee meeddle-a. Bork Bork Bork!"

"止めろ！" the cake protested again.

[misshargrove.livejournal.com]

Annette took the bat and eyed the cake. Moving into position she raised the bat high when the cake started talking again.

...

"It's talking to me, Hamlet." She whispered, bat poised over her head.

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

The Danish Chef gave annette an encouraging thumbs up sign.

"Yuoo hefe-a tu get it beffure-a it seys unytheeng ilse-a, oor it veell try tu telk yuoo oooot ooff heetting it. It's mooch testeeer sqooeeshed. Bork Bork Bork!"

[misshargrove.livejournal.com]

"...but what if I hurt it?" She asked feebly. "I mean, if it is talking then it's alive, right? What if it has a cake heart or something? Cake blood even? I would be responsible for killing a...cake."

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

The Danish Chef shook his head. "It's a ceke-a. It's heert is mede-a ooff bootter. It cun telk, boot it hes nu suool. Bork Bork Bork!"

[misshargrove.livejournal.com]

"So...just one good whack?" Annette wondered if she would be labeled as a cake murderer.

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

The Danish Chef nodded enthusiastically.

"Thet's reeght! Gu fur it! Bork Bork Bork!"

[misshargrove.livejournal.com]

"Okay." Biting her bottom lip, Annette closed her eyes, reared back with the bat once more, and then swung it forward over her head, towards the cake. She hoped. Cause she totally wasn't looking.

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

Her bat connected squarely with the middle of the cake, squishing it with a with a loud noise, and leaving a rather bits of chocolate icing and berries on the counter.

"Fery guud!" said the Danish Chef, pulling a serving knife out of a drawer. "Vuoold yuoo leeke-a zee furst peeece-a? Bork Bork Bork!"

[misshargrove.livejournal.com]

Annette opened her eyes and stared down at the mess. Poor cake. She killed it. It was smushed.

But it was chocolate, so she nodded and smiled a little at Hamlet. "Yes, please."

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

The Danish Chef completely missed any worried that Annette might have. He brandished his knife, and cut her a large (if somewhat messy) piece of cake, and set it on a plate.

"Vuoold yuoo leeke-a mure-a vheepped creem oor berreees oon it?" he asked.

[misshargrove.livejournal.com]

She raised her brows and looked at the cake to Hamlet, back and forth again.

"Whipped cream?" You gotta love whipped cream. And maybe it would hide most of the cake on the plate.

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

The Danish Chef shook up the can of whipped cream, and doused Annette's plate with it, before handing it back to her.

It warmed the depths of his Swedish Danish little heart to make people happy with food.

[misshargrove.livejournal.com]

"Thanks...Hamlet." She took the plate, looked at it warily, then went and sat down, balancing it on her lap.

[ihatedenmark.livejournal.com]

"Yuoo're-a velcume-a! Bork Bork Bork!" he said as she headed off.

Ah, yet another satisfied customer.