It's a Funny Story, Actually...
WHO: Yong and Kiku (open to Yao)
WHERE: The Charleston
WHEN: May 18th, Tuesday. 6 PM.
WHAT: A lost ricecooker finally finds its way home but not in the same condition that it left.
RATING: Who knows. It depends on how much that cooker was worth to Yao...
Kiku had spent all Monday after he had recovered from his hangover trying to clean out the ricecooker he had borrowed months ago. He could still vaguely remember promising to return it at the end of the week, but it had completely slipped his mind with all the other things he had been worrying about. This morning was a frantic mix of Google searching and Yahoo Answers, but it seemed like no one else in the world had shared his dilemma before:
Yesterday, after being rudely gently reminded by Yong Soo that he had yet to return his ricecooker, and informed that it was actually Yao's instead, Kiku had gone searching for it in a hysteric panic. He found it in the back of his closet for some reason, and it seemed as if Pochi-kun had taken a liking to it because he had made some sort of nest slash doggy-bed out of it.
The internet had no solutions for cleaning dog hair out of a rice-cooker, so he had done his best to scrub it down himself. The outside looked more off-white than white now and the small pink decals were slightly faded, but other than that he thought he did a pretty good job of salvaging it.
That is, until he found out that Pochi-kun had also used the cord as a chew toy. He was half-concerned for his puppy's health, and half-terrified of what Yao would do to him if the ricecooker didn't turn on anymore. Half a roll of duct-tape and one test run later, Kiku was finally calm enough to drive down to the Charleston he still flinched every time he saw a little old lady with a pony-tail and a rice hat cross the street.
And yet all of that trouble paled in comparison to this very moment. The anxiety twisting at his stomach from merely standing in front of the apartment door was amazing, but you had to understand that bad things happen when you get between an Asian man and his ricecooker. With this troubling thought in mind, Kiku reluctantly raised his hand and knocked on the door.
WHERE: The Charleston
WHEN: May 18th, Tuesday. 6 PM.
WHAT: A lost ricecooker finally finds its way home but not in the same condition that it left.
RATING: Who knows. It depends on how much that cooker was worth to Yao...
Kiku had spent all Monday after he had recovered from his hangover trying to clean out the ricecooker he had borrowed months ago. He could still vaguely remember promising to return it at the end of the week, but it had completely slipped his mind with all the other things he had been worrying about. This morning was a frantic mix of Google searching and Yahoo Answers, but it seemed like no one else in the world had shared his dilemma before:
Yesterday, after being rudely gently reminded by Yong Soo that he had yet to return his ricecooker, and informed that it was actually Yao's instead, Kiku had gone searching for it in a hysteric panic. He found it in the back of his closet for some reason, and it seemed as if Pochi-kun had taken a liking to it because he had made some sort of nest slash doggy-bed out of it.
The internet had no solutions for cleaning dog hair out of a rice-cooker, so he had done his best to scrub it down himself. The outside looked more off-white than white now and the small pink decals were slightly faded, but other than that he thought he did a pretty good job of salvaging it.
That is, until he found out that Pochi-kun had also used the cord as a chew toy. He was half-concerned for his puppy's health, and half-terrified of what Yao would do to him if the ricecooker didn't turn on anymore. Half a roll of duct-tape and one test run later, Kiku was finally calm enough to drive down to the Charleston he still flinched every time he saw a little old lady with a pony-tail and a rice hat cross the street.
And yet all of that trouble paled in comparison to this very moment. The anxiety twisting at his stomach from merely standing in front of the apartment door was amazing, but you had to understand that bad things happen when you get between an Asian man and his ricecooker. With this troubling thought in mind, Kiku reluctantly raised his hand and knocked on the door.