fandomhighdorms | Third Floor Common Room; Monday Morning [09/02].

Wayne supposed he probably could've done a better job at tellin' the new kids about Monday morning breakfast. There weren't much he could do about it now, though, except maybe hope that the girls had managed to spread a little bit of it by word of mouth, and trust in the ventilations system in here to take all those delicious aromas of a homecooked meal and spread it conveniently through the halls of the dormitory building. It'd be nice, to have some new faces join in on the tradition, realleh, so maybe he'd have to try to mention it if he wound up talking with any of them through the week, especially with classes and everything.

The fact that everything he'd picked up yesterday that he'd need was still there and exactly as it should be was a bit of a relief, and Wayne got to work, making sure each and every pancake was the fluffiest, that each slice of bacon had just the right amount of crisp, that there was more than enough coffee ready to go in the pot, and that there were more'n enough eggs to make however a person might like 'em...though he felt an odd reluctance to make too many of 'em sunny side up.

And so it was breakfast time, a good hearty meal to get yer day...and yer semester...started!

[[ and it's open, of course!!! ]]

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"Can confirm," said Wayne. "Prime, grade-A quality shit-show matieral right there.

"But," he added, because of course there'd be a but, "you absolutely cannot have a duck and a goose bein' the same thing at the same time, Vette, because if you had a duck and a goose and you put them together, you'd no longer have a duck, and you'd no longer have a goose, but instead you'd have something different from either a duck or a goose. You'd have..."

He squinted.

"A duckoose."

There was a long pause from Vette while she processed that one, yes.

"... Do you suppose a duckoose is a good thing or a bad thing?"

Because they had monkey-lizards and frog-dogs back home, and a duckoose sounded like it might be a little bit like that?

"I suppose a duckoose isn't a thing at all, Vette!" Wayne stated with confidence, and just that hint of disapproval that he'd always have for things that weren't things trying to go and actually be things. "But, if duckooses were a thing, it would likeleh just be a thing, neither good nor bad, because I'm sure you'd just as soon have good duckooses as you would have bad duckooses, and probably a majority of 'em'd even be neutral duckooses, just like most anything else!"

"Hmm," Vette mused. "Probably, probably. Though there are some just-things back home that don't do good or neutral very well at all."

A beat.

"Fortunately, I haven't had the pleasure of running into any of those."

"Yeah, well," said Wayne, "that's why I said most anything, and I s'pose it don't really matter much, anyway, on account of duckooses not being things at all."

And it seemed like that was where he'd fully intended to stop the conversation about duckooses, as his voice held that air of firm finality to it that was not likely to budge a step further on the matter if he'd set his mind to it, picking up his bowl of batter to pour in another pancake.

But then he said, a moment later, almost as an afterthought, "But y'wanna know what I think? I think that, if a duckoose were real, it'd probably be a mostly good thing, because I'd bet a duckoose would be pretty damn tasty, if you cooked it up jus' right. That's what I think."

"Well," Vette mused, "now you know I'm totally going to be on a mission to find some way to make duckoose a real thing. Would you cook up a duckoose if you were handed one, Wayne?"

Because never let it be said Vette was one to turn down a good challenge.

"Does a duckoose with a boner drag weeds?" asked Wayne.

...so that was a yes.

...probably.

Vette was fortunately not privy enough to Earth waterfowl to argue that duckooses had cloaca and probably would not, in fact, drag weeds.

"Great! Then I'm gonna have to try to find one!"

There was a whole multiverse out there, Wayne. Don't doubt Vette's determination to try new foods.

It was just a turn of phrase, anyway, and one that Wayne didn't even know he'd been itching for a good opportunity to drop ever since he pretty much arrived!

"And best of luck to ya, Vette!" said Wayne, who, despite the fact that he'd prefer duckooses to remain not a thing, would definitely warm up to the idea of them being things when it involved them being things he could not only Number A) Eat but also things he could Number B) Show off by cooking up real good and he would absolutely Number C) be looking up good duck and goose recipes and trying to find the best compromise between the two.

"I look forward to your potential success."

"As do I," Vette decided. "And I promise I won't even ask for anything that goes with it to be cooked with banana."

And Wayne let out that all-too-familiar, especially-if-you-were-in-that-class rumbling growl from somewhere deep in the back of his throat.

"Y'jus' had to go and bring up the b-word," he said, squinting his eyes at her, "didn't ya, Vette?"

"I live a dangerous life," Vette replied, grinning brightly. "It's okay, Wayne. If you ever find yourself at the business end of a mean banana, I'll rescue you."

"It's not the bananas I'm worried about, Vette," Wayne informed her, "but rather the stuff being done to those bananas. What we witnessed in that class, Vette...and what we were expected to do ourselves...was nothing short of the..."

He squinted.

"Crimes against bananity."

"You... didn't think it tasted okay, huh?" Vette actually looked a little sympathetic. "Humans are so picky sometimes, I swear."

"Sorry the rest of us got taste buds, little shoots," said Wayne. "But look on the bright side! That just means more banana soup and banana sardines fer that never-ending iron stomach you got there."

"Stomachs," Vette corrected brightly. "And I will never say no to banana soup."

What? It was tasty. Especially with chili powder in it.

Lots and lots of chili powder.

"Oh, yeah?" asked Wayne, with conversational curiosity. "Is that so? How many you got in there? You know, a cow's got four stomachs."

"A non-one amount," Vette said primly, putting her nose into the air. "... The cows are the tasty ones, right?"

And now she was side-eyeing you, Wayne. Twi'leks weren't for eating.

"Can confirm," said Wayne, who met Vette's side-eye with a confused side-eye of his own, as he was only making comparisons based entirely on the idea of things he knew to have more than one stomach and not their eventual eat-ability, because why would he think that, Vette??

The stomach's weren't even the parts you ate!

...well, they weren't the parts he'd eat.

He was pretty sure Vette'd eat a cow stomach, if given the chance.

Probably all four of 'em, for that matter.

"Hmm," Vette hummed, looking thoughtful. And then she shrugged. If she caught someone's teeth in one of her lekku, she'd drop 'em. Easy. "Four does sound pretty useful..."

So, a non-one, non-four amount!

Third Floor Common Room; Monday Morning [09/02].

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