El Sabor de Estrés
“Don’t let her win, Donaghy,” he mutters to himself before walking down the halls of the sixth floor in search of the studio. Perhaps checking in on the Christmas special will calm him down. He almost feels bad for the poor soul that he will inevitably end up yelling at. Almost.
As he passes the coffee and snack counter on his way into Studio 6H, something catches his eye. A single bright red bag with orange cheese curls on the front has been stuffed behind a pile of fruit. Jack stops and walks over to the counter, pulling out the lonely bag of Sabor de Soledad. He immediately feels his mouth start to water; cheese puffs are standard stress-eating food. Not that he wants to stress-eat. Leo made him promise to get it under control, and he is in control. He’s Jack Donaghy, damn it! He’s stronger than stress-eating.
Still. Cheese curls.
He glances around him, looking for Lemon. He remembers her telling him a couple of months ago that she’d stopped eating them, which is no doubt the reason that this bag is hiding behind a pile of oranges. However, Jack isn’t willing to chance it. He has heard horror stories about the fate of people who stole Lemon’s food, and he does not want to become a cautionary tale.
“Pete,” he says, stopping the younger man on his way into the studio. Pete twirls around and looks at Jack slightly warily.
“Yeah?”
“Where’s Lemon?” Jack asks simply. He watches as a brief wave of relief passes over Pete’s face, only to be quickly replaced by an expression of concentration.
“Um, I’m pretty sure she went uptown. Like, way uptown. Something about her Letters to Santa thing,” Pete tells Jack. Jack nods in understanding.
“Thank you,” he says. Pete turns and leaves Jack alone with the bag of Sabor de Soledad before Jack can get another word in. Jack looks down at the tempting bag. On the off chance that Lemon would care about her hidden bag of Mexican cheese curls, she would never know that it was Jack who ate them. Surely, she would just assume it was one of the writers. Jack doesn’t have to worry about getting caught.
An image of Colleen’s face flashes through his mind, and that’s all the prompting he needs to tear into the bag. Colleen’s words from different conversations throughout the day echo in his head, and Jack stuffs three cheese curls into his mouth at a time. She is going to drive him to his grave. Literally- Jack would be willing to bet that she has a burial plot picked out for him, despite his insistence that he will be cryogenically frozen. He realizes that he’s going to die before she does, a thought that stuffs another handful of cheese curls into his mouth. How can any man be expected to put up with this, with her? Jack is fairly certain that, if left alone with her for any more time, she wouldn’t outlive him, a thought that both intrigues him and fills him with a nearly unbearable amount of guilt. More cheese curls find their way into his mouth. How on Earth is he supposed to survive the holidays with her living with him? Jack can see the papers’ headlines now- “GE’s Television Magnate Commits Suicide- Sources Suggest Pressure from Mother.”
Reaching into the bag, Jack is greeted with nothing but air. He peers into the bag to find it completely empty. He wipes the cheese powder off of his fingers and tosses the bag into the trash can.
Jack walks away from the snack and coffee counter feeling only slightly better than before he ate the Sabor de Soledad. Of course, this couldn’t be the food’s fault; Colleen is the cause of his problems, not the innocent cheese curls. Maybe he shouldn’t have given Lemon such a hard time for eating those off-brand Mexican cheese curls.
End
As he passes the coffee and snack counter on his way into Studio 6H, something catches his eye. A single bright red bag with orange cheese curls on the front has been stuffed behind a pile of fruit. Jack stops and walks over to the counter, pulling out the lonely bag of Sabor de Soledad. He immediately feels his mouth start to water; cheese puffs are standard stress-eating food. Not that he wants to stress-eat. Leo made him promise to get it under control, and he is in control. He’s Jack Donaghy, damn it! He’s stronger than stress-eating.
Still. Cheese curls.
He glances around him, looking for Lemon. He remembers her telling him a couple of months ago that she’d stopped eating them, which is no doubt the reason that this bag is hiding behind a pile of oranges. However, Jack isn’t willing to chance it. He has heard horror stories about the fate of people who stole Lemon’s food, and he does not want to become a cautionary tale.
“Pete,” he says, stopping the younger man on his way into the studio. Pete twirls around and looks at Jack slightly warily.
“Yeah?”
“Where’s Lemon?” Jack asks simply. He watches as a brief wave of relief passes over Pete’s face, only to be quickly replaced by an expression of concentration.
“Um, I’m pretty sure she went uptown. Like, way uptown. Something about her Letters to Santa thing,” Pete tells Jack. Jack nods in understanding.
“Thank you,” he says. Pete turns and leaves Jack alone with the bag of Sabor de Soledad before Jack can get another word in. Jack looks down at the tempting bag. On the off chance that Lemon would care about her hidden bag of Mexican cheese curls, she would never know that it was Jack who ate them. Surely, she would just assume it was one of the writers. Jack doesn’t have to worry about getting caught.
An image of Colleen’s face flashes through his mind, and that’s all the prompting he needs to tear into the bag. Colleen’s words from different conversations throughout the day echo in his head, and Jack stuffs three cheese curls into his mouth at a time. She is going to drive him to his grave. Literally- Jack would be willing to bet that she has a burial plot picked out for him, despite his insistence that he will be cryogenically frozen. He realizes that he’s going to die before she does, a thought that stuffs another handful of cheese curls into his mouth. How can any man be expected to put up with this, with her? Jack is fairly certain that, if left alone with her for any more time, she wouldn’t outlive him, a thought that both intrigues him and fills him with a nearly unbearable amount of guilt. More cheese curls find their way into his mouth. How on Earth is he supposed to survive the holidays with her living with him? Jack can see the papers’ headlines now- “GE’s Television Magnate Commits Suicide- Sources Suggest Pressure from Mother.”
Reaching into the bag, Jack is greeted with nothing but air. He peers into the bag to find it completely empty. He wipes the cheese powder off of his fingers and tosses the bag into the trash can.
Jack walks away from the snack and coffee counter feeling only slightly better than before he ate the Sabor de Soledad. Of course, this couldn’t be the food’s fault; Colleen is the cause of his problems, not the innocent cheese curls. Maybe he shouldn’t have given Lemon such a hard time for eating those off-brand Mexican cheese curls.
End