moveslikestrider | [Video

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First things first, what asshole thought, 'hm I don't think making turkeys are confusing enough. I'm going to put a BAG on it like I'm covering up a grisly murder scene'. I'm dying to know what went through their head. They went as far as to label the bag 'fool proof'.

[The blond teenager talking makes finger quotes with his fingers as he continues on.]

I think they should have named it, 'screwing with you'. That stupid thing does nothing and apparently you're supposed to slit it up the sides anyway?? How is that a bag?? That's a cover not a plastic all encompassing container for your meat.

And those instructions.

[He jabs a finger at the screen this time and his aviator shades fall down his nose. He pushes them up and yes, yes he's not done.]

What's wrong with, okay so the bird is bigger than the neighbor's dog. You need to roast your fowl in the hot box for X hours. No, no, they have to complicate that too.

[He picks up those handy instructions anyone gets with a large turkey and waves them at the gear.]

We suggest you add 30 minutes per pound to the cooking time. As if that is going to make sense to all of us. I mean, about about those people who are shit at math. Or the ovens built entirely differently.

And check the warnings you find every time. [He thwacks the booklet with a sharp pop with the back of his hand.] 'Do not drop frozen turkey on you or your pets.' Who is stupid enough not to just dethaw it in a clean tub on the floor. Or in the sink, you know, away from anything critter or human??

[He grumbles and moves to shut the gear off then pauses.] Oh right.

So the sky opened up and acted like it was doomsday with wind. We all know that. But if you ran across a nerd who talks a lot about ghosts and may or may not have an omanyte with him that beelines for porcelain thrones or bathtubs, tell him to call home already.

If he ran off already. I dunno, tell me and I'll add it to the kicks to his shin when I find him.

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[Who needs video when you can just come bother your brother in the kitchen.]

Thirty minutes per pound would be something you need the full weight of the bird to calculate, and would be relatively simple... [And that's all he's gonna say for the minute.]

I know, I know. But if the full weight of the bird is on the package, why go, hey you need to MATH this shit out and ugh. [He's been annoyed for days. John is missing after the brief panic that John might have gone home. He drums his fingers on the counter and sighs.

At least Rose, Aradia, and Dirk are around.]

This is embarrassing. I can't even rightly call myself a man but at least my attempts to tango with the kitchen were semi-successful vs we don't talk about what Rose did. I didn't know stuffing could catch fire like that.

Probably because the weight varies by bird, and they can't calculate it out for each individual one.

[He sits somewhere-- quite possibly on the counter.]

Some sort of gross approximation like 99.8% of all things that get cooked are flammable, so it's actually not that difficult to believe.

[Dave looks up from his grumbling and raises both eyebrows.] Holy shit. Did you remember to chew when you ate the encyclopedia set or did you just unhinge your jaw and swallow them all at once??

[He pushes away from the counter to walk over to a cupboard and pull it open.]

It's still stupid.

Want some hot chocolate or am I going only dual because Rose will appear like we summoned her with ritual sacrifice when I start making a cup of this.

[[Rose is in the living room, grouching and grumbling about stupid food and stupid stuffing and stupid John and stupid everything basically. The moral of today's story is that StriLondes are not allowed in the kitchen. Because apparently being able to make things like gour-fucking-met Pokemon food does not mean you can make something like stuffing.

Which is bullshit, universe. That is a bullshit universal rule.

Stupid piece of shit universe.

She's watching the broadcast, and she's nodding with every point he makes. And a few times makes a verbal agreement. Because seriously those instructions were shit. They were shit. Whoever decided to write those instructions was an idiot.

Ugh. Thanksgiving is the dumbest holiday.

And she doesn't even have baby here to cheer her up.]]

[It takes fifteen minutes but Dave comes out of the kitchen and offers her a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows on top.] I knew if I didn't offer you tribute no one would be found living in this house come tomorrow.

There's still left over apple pie. I still can't believe of all the things that's the one to turn out decent. It's like the apple gods smiled and went yes, sounds cool you have our blessing. Go forth and create deliciousness.

Damn straight. John would finally come home and I would have to try and explain to him why you and the others were found strewn about the house.

And then I would have to kill him.

[[She takes the cup with a quiet thank you, sipping at it.]]

Mmmm...just what I needed.

[[She considers the pie, tilting her head up at him.]]

You know, a slice of that sounds delicious. Did you want to join me and watch television while eating some?

Sounds cool. [He steps back and disappears back into the kitchen for a minute only to reappear with his mug and two plates. The pie doesn't look amazing but it tastes okay.

That's all that matters. He presents her with a fork as he parks his butt on the couch with a sigh.]

That tornado was such bullshit. I feel like that's all John's fault. Like hey you fickle bastard don't go drilling into ground with you windy stuff. Or maybe he sneezed.

It was such bullshit! [[Sipping almost angrily at her drink, she takes the fork and grumbles a little, kind of stabbing at the pie.]]

It probably is all John's fault. It was probably on purpose. Like 'oh hehehe this will be a great prank! I'll disappear on them just before Thanksgiving and then make a big tornado on top of it!'

[[That was totally a flawless mockery of John. Totally flawless.]]

'Get them all worried! It'll be great!!'

[Dave takes a quick swig of his drink and pops a stray slice of cinnamon covered apple that fell out of his slice of pie into his face.] OR he just zapped again and went, 'dave's wrong this isn't time travel! It has history altering with it's own rules!!!!'

Guess what. That's time travel, genius.

[He cuts off a bit of his pie and stuffs in his face. He grumbles.] Next time I see him I'll kick him in the shin and pin him down.

Edited 2013-12-02 02:55 (UTC)

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