Who: Goose, Nephenee
What: Southerns go on a picnic. Goose cooks. (Yeah because that food's gonna taste good. HA. HA.)
Where: Goose's apartment, and then ~THE PARK~.
When: Saturday, January 8th [FUTUREDATED]
Warnings: Swearing at worst. Also booze, it's Goose.
"Lessee, a third cup of potatoes... or does that say a half a cup? Hell if I can read my own mom's handwriting..."
Goose muttered to himself as his hands hurried through a makeshift cookbook of his, pages containing many a classic Southern mother's recipe turning with each motion. His eyes scanned over the text, his brows furrowing as he tried to refresh his memory. It had been a while since he made a good pot roast. He'd need to do it good, too, to impress a fellow Southern.
He was glad that he invited Nephenee on a bit of a picnic out in the field. It had been a while since he had a good one sans the meteor shower. He was looking forward to a nice day under the crisp winter air.
"Wait, this needs barbecue sauce? I ain't even got that... so wha...- screw it, I'll just add steak or somethin'."
Whether or not the food would taste good was up in the air, though.