Cooking with Matt

[piwakawaka]

Tiwa is discussing where she and Matt can take over the kitchen and the rats are moving out of the way. Her plan is fairly simple, everything they'll have will be baked in the end as that gives more time for cleaning afterwards.

Everything isn't prepped but a lot of things are as that means more time for the good parts of cooking. When she's sure that everything's set then she goes to the door to see if she can spot him.

Comments

[semicharmed]

"Savory pies."

Matt grins.

"So if I mastered these guys, I could legitimately feed myself."

[piwakawaka]

"Course you could and you can bring back the extras we make and freeze them too. They save well but they're best fresh,"

Tiwa has a plan that involves keeping Matt fed.

[semicharmed]

He nods.

"Groovy. I'm ready, then. Let's do it."

[piwakawaka]

"Do you want to make all the kinds I listed or do you have some you like better?"

Either way there will be many things to chop and fry and cook.

[semicharmed]

"Uh."

A smile.

"Confession: I tried meat pies once in London, but I don't even remember what was in them. Everything you talked about sounds really good."

[piwakawaka]

"Then start chopping up all those onions for me. We'll need them for all the different fillings."

[semicharmed]

Matt bestirs himself in the direction of the onions.

"These are going to make me cry," he sighs, casting around for a likely-looking knife.

Here's one!

[piwakawaka]

"You can grate the cheese for the mince and cheese ones instead. Though a few tears won't hurt,"

Tiwa always finds it oddly restful.

[semicharmed]

"I can do both," he protests, shaking his head.

A faint smile.

"I don't really need the catharsis, I think-- it's been, um. Kind of a weird couple of weeks."

[piwakawaka]

"Oh. What happened?"

Since he's starting on the onions, she'll tackle getting the various meats ready. She just likes cutting onions, it wasn't a suggestion that he needed to cry.

[semicharmed]

But Matt never met a statement he couldn't overthink!

"Uh," he says.

"Well, the weirdest part was definitely the dreams. That might not have been dreams." That old chestnut. "Do you know anything about lizard-gods?"

[piwakawaka]

"I don't think so. Lizard-gods from where?"

She knows they must exist somewhere, but she's never run across them herself.

[semicharmed]

"Indiana?"

[piwakawaka]

"Huh, that's odd. What did they say in the dream or do?"

[semicharmed]

Matt snorts as he shucks the raspy outer skin from the first few onions.

"He ... identified himself as 'Zorp the Surveyor,' said some cryptic things about games and parts to play, gave me home office organization tips, and I woke up a Wiffle ball coach."

He lines up the knife in a promising orientation, though he knows very little about chopping vegetables.

[piwakawaka]

"You never have ordinary weird things happen to you. What happened with the coach?"

She comes over and shows him quickly how to cut the onions.

[semicharmed]

"--Ah, thanks," Matt says.

With any luck, he'll get out of this with all his digits attached.

"Um. Hit by a car? Anyway, it turns out Zorp has this cult in Pawnee, Indiana, and apparently he pulled me out there to answer their prayers. Except he didn't really answer them."

[piwakawaka]

"What did the prayers involve?"

That sounds like it could end badly, but he doesn't look like he's hurting.

[semicharmed]

Matt slices, carefully.

"All I know is one of the cultists wanted his granddaughter to hit a home run."

In Wiffle ball.

[piwakawaka]

"That doesn't sound too hard just specific."

[semicharmed]

Much like slicing onions!

His eyes are starting to water.

"Well, it didn't happen. Either because that little girl was not that great at sports, or because I'm a terrible coach."

[piwakawaka]

"Well, you're not really the sport type,"

It doesn't seem to fit him at all.

[semicharmed]

He grins, rueful.

"Not so much."

[piwakawaka]

"But you tried. So that's something. Did it satisfy the lizard-god?"

[semicharmed]

"Uh ... he sent me back here, so I'm happy."

Chop chop! go the onions.

"How much do we need of this?"