(no subject)

[bitingmybullet]

So, there's a problem with being a busy little bee: Sometimes, while you're in the back rooting around for more coffee which you know you have, you miss out on certain crucial events.

When Gwen emerges from the kitchens, triumphantly holding up a half-dozen packets of instant coffee, the first thing she smells is blood. Her face pales.

"What the hell--"