Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
As a bit of a joke, those of us on the Zombie Walk staff have ended up accquiring 'Call Signs'.
... Mine is 'Violator'.
So Burnt Sugar makes an incredible flan, that she can usually be talked into making while visiting. Her fiancee is a quiet and shy guy who carries the flan, and therefore is usually greeted with a jubilant cry of 'FLAN!'.
-His call sign is 'Flan'.
During a meeting, I'd finished my flan and glanced around, clicking my chopsticks together. Flan, sitting next to my right, had just cut his last piece in half and was happily eating.
... I stole his last piece off his plate. It was like something out of a cartoon, the fork going 'tink' on the plate, the look of confusion as he glanced around, wondering where it had gone. Between my giggling and having my mouth full, it kind of gave it away.
The cry went up, I had violated Flan's Flan.
Enter yesterday, where we had a Zombie Walk BBQ, for the staff and volunteers to chat and undwind. Burnt Sugar and Flan brought flan.
Was chatting with Burnt Sugar and a few other people when Flan cut the flan, taking a piece for himself and setting it on the table across from Burnt Sugar and went to get a drink. I glanced at it and kept talking.
Burnt Sugar looked at me, looked the piece, and then glared up at me. "Don't you dare steal his flan again!"
The thought hadn't crossed my mind.
"Icka! Don't do it!"
Well, now it had.
"You leave his flan alone! ICKAAAAA~!!"
-She'd said it three times. So therefore obviously I had no choice but to grab Flan's flan and take off running.
There was a huge cry behind me, then I'm passing the kids climbing on the jungle gym and a six-year old charges after me, chasing after. I keep running, and the kid gets tired and drops back and finally I slow down and stop, glancing back at the pavillion behind me.
And then down at the flan. Had no clue what do with it, so I walked back, giggling madly and try to hand the flan back to Flan.
He gives me a suspcious look. "No, you keep it." He had a protective arm around his plate, the fork hovering dangeriously. "I got a new piece."
So I sat down and ate it.
Stolen Flan tastes better anyway.
... Mine is 'Violator'.
So Burnt Sugar makes an incredible flan, that she can usually be talked into making while visiting. Her fiancee is a quiet and shy guy who carries the flan, and therefore is usually greeted with a jubilant cry of 'FLAN!'.
-His call sign is 'Flan'.
During a meeting, I'd finished my flan and glanced around, clicking my chopsticks together. Flan, sitting next to my right, had just cut his last piece in half and was happily eating.
... I stole his last piece off his plate. It was like something out of a cartoon, the fork going 'tink' on the plate, the look of confusion as he glanced around, wondering where it had gone. Between my giggling and having my mouth full, it kind of gave it away.
The cry went up, I had violated Flan's Flan.
Enter yesterday, where we had a Zombie Walk BBQ, for the staff and volunteers to chat and undwind. Burnt Sugar and Flan brought flan.
Was chatting with Burnt Sugar and a few other people when Flan cut the flan, taking a piece for himself and setting it on the table across from Burnt Sugar and went to get a drink. I glanced at it and kept talking.
Burnt Sugar looked at me, looked the piece, and then glared up at me. "Don't you dare steal his flan again!"
The thought hadn't crossed my mind.
"Icka! Don't do it!"
Well, now it had.
"You leave his flan alone! ICKAAAAA~!!"
-She'd said it three times. So therefore obviously I had no choice but to grab Flan's flan and take off running.
There was a huge cry behind me, then I'm passing the kids climbing on the jungle gym and a six-year old charges after me, chasing after. I keep running, and the kid gets tired and drops back and finally I slow down and stop, glancing back at the pavillion behind me.
And then down at the flan. Had no clue what do with it, so I walked back, giggling madly and try to hand the flan back to Flan.
He gives me a suspcious look. "No, you keep it." He had a protective arm around his plate, the fork hovering dangeriously. "I got a new piece."
So I sat down and ate it.
Stolen Flan tastes better anyway.