[Private to the Admiral]
I want 200 Pot Noodles, varying flavours, delivered to the kitchen. If you would. [Pause, as he knows the Admiral's sense of humour.]
In a box or crate or something, not just dumped around the place.
[Private to Laura]
So, what d'you do on your day to yourself? Hope I was right to trust you.
[Kitchen filter]Nobody
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I'm not volunteering O'Brien for kitchen duty, however. I'm sure you understand.
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The guy's got a job, don't he? Besides, right now, happy to take anyone who isn't going to get stabby.
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Right now the closest he's getting to the kitchen is custodial duty. Although come to think of it, he did do a dishwasher stint for a while there. Maybe once I'm ready to take him off the punitive shift, I'll transfer him there.
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...Ain't giving that fucker anything interesting, are you? Nice.
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He had interesting and he blew it. It's his job now to get it back if he wants it.
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Oh, number three. Don't touch my Pot Noodles.
Boring him into submission, then?
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The rest of the rules make sense, of course, but should I even ask about the Pot Noodles?
Something like that, yes.
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You shall find out, all in good time! Just don't touch them. Well, I can probably spare you one, if you want to try the culinary delicacies of council estates across the country.
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Thanks for the kind offer, but I'll pass. Instant coffee is as much instant anything as I'll allow myself. Besides, shouldn't like to deplete your stock.
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But, Una! Have you never wanted to try a... Bombay Bad Boy?! Not to mention, you haven't seen how many I've got down here.
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"Bombay Bad Boy". Who names these things? Wasn't there a Lamb & Mint once upon a time?
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Fuck if I know. There's a Southern Fried Chicken one, which is the rankest thing I've ever fucking seen.
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Oh god, that sounds bloody awful. What, is that going to be punitive rations for the people in zero?
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Or, just ruin their diet entirely.
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