Good intentions...
"Da daah dee, da da dum..."
The small, battered media player in the Blue Base kitchen squeaked out an upbeat tune as a Spartan in pure regulation blue armour dashed around wildly. It had taken quite a bit of trial and error to remind him that the disks actually needed to go in the player, not merely shown to it, and a little more to remind him which way up they went, but everything was working now.
Caboose was in a good mood. And as such, he'd decided to do something nice for his team. He wasn't sure if everyone here actually counted as 'team', but no matter what, he was going to give it a go.
Cooking.
He might have gotten lucky in the past, and he didn't quite know how, but today was just not proving to be his day.
So far, there were - against all laws of probability - sausages on the ceiling, several rather incomprehensible puddles around the oven, and a saucepan was going to need salvage work.
And this was from trying to prepare standard rations.
He stopped and looked at what he was doing. At least the rest of the food was getting hot? Right?
((Important note from da mod: This is *not* Caboose's permanent journal or permanent player; this post was made purely for purposes of keeping things rolling / cleaning things up / tying up loose ends following the departure of the original Caboose.))
The small, battered media player in the Blue Base kitchen squeaked out an upbeat tune as a Spartan in pure regulation blue armour dashed around wildly. It had taken quite a bit of trial and error to remind him that the disks actually needed to go in the player, not merely shown to it, and a little more to remind him which way up they went, but everything was working now.
Caboose was in a good mood. And as such, he'd decided to do something nice for his team. He wasn't sure if everyone here actually counted as 'team', but no matter what, he was going to give it a go.
Cooking.
He might have gotten lucky in the past, and he didn't quite know how, but today was just not proving to be his day.
So far, there were - against all laws of probability - sausages on the ceiling, several rather incomprehensible puddles around the oven, and a saucepan was going to need salvage work.
And this was from trying to prepare standard rations.
He stopped and looked at what he was doing. At least the rest of the food was getting hot? Right?
((Important note from da mod: This is *not* Caboose's permanent journal or permanent player; this post was made purely for purposes of keeping things rolling / cleaning things up / tying up loose ends following the departure of the original Caboose.))