Seventh Body: (Video/Audio//English) Feed the hungry masses

[bringthedeadup]

[The camera clicks on to an inside shot of Our House, where Cecil points the camera at several pans of food. It appears to be mostly lasagna and casserole. Some pots can be seen boiling on the stove.]

It's my opinion that when shit gets tough, people need some good comfort food. [The video cuts out, leaving just audio.]

I made some of my grandparent'

Comments

Audio

[graparu]

O-oh wow that looks awesome.

[That lasagna has her full attention.]

What deck?

Audio

[bringthedeadup]

It tastes even better, I can promise that.

[Cecil grins.]

Our House, Deck 8. Hard to miss, it'll remind you of home.

Audio --> Commentlog

[graparu]

Kind Sir, I am on my way~

[A few minutes later Grapple bounds through the door.]

Hello?

Commentlog

[bringthedeadup]

[Cecil is moving the pans out to one of the tables, and when he nears someone enter he looks up with a grin.]

Hey, welcome to Our House! [Ever the professional, but he stops after a moment.] You're looks-awesome girl.

[She's hot damn.]

Commentlog

[graparu]

[Grapple grins, ducks her head and laughs a little. She loves compliments far too much. A moment later she looks up and sticks out her hand.]

Thanks. You're not so bad yourself.

[She rests a hand on her hip and peers around the restaurant.]

So, where's the food at?

Commentlog

[bringthedeadup]

[Cecil grins wide, inclining his head.]

I try not to look like too much of a wreck.

[He steps aside, gesturing to some foil-covered pans, accompanied by plates and forks, and serving utensils.]

You can ladle yourself up, or I can get some for you. I wouldn't mind serving a pretty woman such as yourself.

Commentlog

[graparu]

[Grapple moves to see better, still smiling to herself. It looks good but hell if it doesn't smell amazing.]

Hey, you did the cooking, I'll serve it up.

[She grabs a plate and shoots Cecil a quick glance.]

What about you? Hungry or do you not eat your own grub?

Commentlog

[bringthedeadup]

[Cecil shakes his head, taking a seat in a booth, where a half-drunk coke (and rum!) sits.]

I ate earlier - can't help taste testing the goods, you know. A cook that won't eat his own food can't be trusted.