Keep Meg & Amy From Cooking Party

[kitchen_maid]

There are streamers over the door and glitter is flung generously (if randomly) about over countertops. (To be on the safe side, the girls have used edible glitter, like that on the cookies they handed out as invitations.)

There are large signs posted above the stoves and ovens with picture of Meg and Amy and the words "NOT ALLOWED" in large and bright red letters below them.

It can only mean one thing.

There's a party in the kitchen, and someone has got to keep these girls from cooking.

Comments

[balletrat]

*Demure:*

The point, as you see, is for us not to cook.

[b-hawkins.livejournal.com]

"You really that bad?" Ben supposed for a moment that he himself couldn't be that much worse if Meg and her friend are banned from using the ovens.

"So. What I gotta do?"

[balletrat]

Well, *Meg explains,* you see that Book?

*'Book' gets its own capital letter at the beginning, very clearly stated.*

That has recipes in it - and there's ingredients on the table - and all you need to do is put them together!

*She leans back, looking satisfied.*

[b-hawkins.livejournal.com]

"Maybe I'll wait." He said, looking at the indicated book. "Just help someone who knows."

He does, however, look interested in chatting. He flashed her a smile to guarantee cookage on his part.

"How are ya?"

[balletrat]

Well, we're hoping to get plenty of those, if all goes well, *Meg says, giving in, and grins.*

I'm good - this table is actually really comfortable, you know.

[b-hawkins.livejournal.com]

"Oh." Comfortable tables? "I don't think it's made for French ballerinas."

[balletrat]

Everything, *Meg says placidly,* is made for French ballerinas if you look at it right.

[b-hawkins.livejournal.com]

Ben tilted his head a little in thought. "Suppose. But then everythin's for everythin' else."

[balletrat]

Well, why not?

*Meg waves her hands, expansively.* I mean - no need to get possessive about things here, right?

[b-hawkins.livejournal.com]

Ben smiled a little at the thought. Communist Milliways. Yeah, people were starting to get worried about those crazy Russians.

[balletrat]

*Meg believes in the liberation of the workers.

. . . . she's also an aristocrat on Antar. Shush.*

It's not like getting rich at Milliways is going to exactly help anyone here, *she continues,* is it?

[b-hawkins.livejournal.com]

Aristocracy? More like... LAMEstocracy. Ben isn't anything of ecomic mention anywhere. He has nothing.

"No, it ain't." Funny, that. "Bar don't care."

[balletrat]

Exactly.

*Meg grins.* There are some advantages about having a magic bar be in charge of the place where you live.

[b-hawkins.livejournal.com]

Ben utterly failed at keeping a straight face.

"Though it ain't all sunshine an' flowers." Having a peice of furniture running the joint.

[balletrat]

Of course not!

*Meg looks aghast.*

How boring would that be?

[b-hawkins.livejournal.com]

"It's all bright without dark."

[balletrat]

- and then you have to wear sunglasses, *Meg concludes, promptly,* which is kind of a pain.

*Meg in a cheerful mood tends to tromple happily over symbolism, just as a force of habit.*

[b-hawkins.livejournal.com]

He nodded, apparently unphased by Meg's symbol-trample. Now that Ben thought about it, maybe a pair wouldn't be so bad.

[balletrat]

I really am glad this place isn't perfect, *Meg adds, a little more thoughtfully.*

'cause then, you know, we'd have to be perfect. And that'd be a pain.

[b-hawkins.livejournal.com]

And in Ben's eyes, he's far from it.

"Yeah."