Drabble Meme: Fast FoodworldsrunnerupAugust 18 2010, 12:46:31 UTC
Name: It's Cheap for a Reason Prompt: Fast Food Rating: PG 'Verse: badfic_manor Characters: Mello and Helen Parr Summary: Mello will never be nagged about food again.
Mello snapped off a piece of chocolate with his teeth.
The woman, Helen Parr, a newcomer to the Manor, was standing at the counter across the kitchen turned her head almost owlishly around at the sound eying Mello and what constituted as his dinner. She sighed loud enough for Mello to hear. Mello turned to look at her and raised his pale eyebrows at her. Chocolate secured between his teeth, gave her a little sarcastic wave.
“Honey, do you need to eat chocolate for dinner?” she asked, one arm stretching to the cabinet beyond the stove to grab the breadcrumbs needed for her chicken cutlets. Her deep brown eyes were still focused on Mello, mouth screwed up by her nose, showing its owner’s judgment. Her other hand painted egg over the raw chicken on the counter.
“Yes,” Mello answered.
“No, you don’t. I’ll make you whatever you want for dinner. We’ve got the stuff to make just about everything,” she told him enthusiastically.
“Thrilling,” Mello looked back down his book on the table.
“Do you ever eat anything other than chocolate?” She asked half sarcastically and half curious. He had to eat something else, right?
“Nope,” Mello didn’t even look up.
“Never?”
“Never.”
“That’s not healthy! Where do you get your vitamins and minerals?”
“Dark chocolate’s good for the heart,” Mello said, his tone was offhand but it was tinged with dark irony. Despite eating pounds of dark chocolate during his lifetime Mello died of a heart attack at the age of twenty.
“What about calcium? What about iron?”
“Milk chocolate.”
“And iron?” she pressed.
A shrug. "Guess I don't need it."
“That’s so unhealthy!” she said. She must have felt that she had been rude because she added in a gentler tone, “I’ll make you anything you want.”
“Chocolate cake,” Mello was only half sarcastic.
A sigh from the woman, “How about a hamburger? Everyone loves hamburgers.”
“Nope,” Mello replied. A juicy steak occasionally, and even then he only picked at it, a fact that amused his former boss endlessly. There would be this tiny teenager, barely over five and a half feet with a steak larger than his head who never finished the meal.
“Not even from McDonald’s?” she asked, as far as she could tell fast food was pretty much the most addictive thing available to kids under twelve.
“Ew,” Mello answered. “Lady, if I’m going to put something in my mouth I’d better know where the meat is coming from.” He was momentarily glad that Matt wasn’t there because otherwise he would have (at best) snickered (and at worst, and probably more likely, he would have made a sex joke.)
“It’s from cows,” Helen assured him.
“Yeah, but cows from the worst factory farms in the country pumped full of hormones," Mello said.
"But the FDA..." she began, but Mello cut her off.
"The FDA can be bought, especially by the largest cooperation in America," Mello answered. "Those cows get unregulated hormones. No one'll tell you that but it's true."
"It's gotta be fit for..."
"Dog food?" Mello answered.
"I wasn't going to say that! I was gonna say human consump-"
"And fed other mutilated farm animals. They don't move, they don't go outside, they roll around in their own crap," Mello continued. Helen clearly didn't approve of Mello's language but he kept going even after she opened her mouth to interrupt him. "Even when they're slaughtered it's on a mass assembly line where almost everything can go wrong and ruin the meat. They die by a hammer to the skull, hammers that aren't necessarily cleaned between cows or even between workdays. And-"
“That’s disgusting!” Helen answered, “don’t talk like that in the kitchen!”
“Bet you don’t want to make me a hamburger anymore," Mello smirked.
Prompt: Fast Food
Rating: PG
'Verse: badfic_manor
Characters: Mello and Helen Parr
Summary: Mello will never be nagged about food again.
Mello snapped off a piece of chocolate with his teeth.
The woman, Helen Parr, a newcomer to the Manor, was standing at the counter across the kitchen turned her head almost owlishly around at the sound eying Mello and what constituted as his dinner. She sighed loud enough for Mello to hear. Mello turned to look at her and raised his pale eyebrows at her. Chocolate secured between his teeth, gave her a little sarcastic wave.
“Honey, do you need to eat chocolate for dinner?” she asked, one arm stretching to the cabinet beyond the stove to grab the breadcrumbs needed for her chicken cutlets. Her deep brown eyes were still focused on Mello, mouth screwed up by her nose, showing its owner’s judgment. Her other hand painted egg over the raw chicken on the counter.
“Yes,” Mello answered.
“No, you don’t. I’ll make you whatever you want for dinner. We’ve got the stuff to make just about everything,” she told him enthusiastically.
“Thrilling,” Mello looked back down his book on the table.
“Do you ever eat anything other than chocolate?” She asked half sarcastically and half curious. He had to eat something else, right?
“Nope,” Mello didn’t even look up.
“Never?”
“Never.”
“That’s not healthy! Where do you get your vitamins and minerals?”
“Dark chocolate’s good for the heart,” Mello said, his tone was offhand but it was tinged with dark irony. Despite eating pounds of dark chocolate during his lifetime Mello died of a heart attack at the age of twenty.
“What about calcium? What about iron?”
“Milk chocolate.”
“And iron?” she pressed.
A shrug. "Guess I don't need it."
“That’s so unhealthy!” she said. She must have felt that she had been rude because she added in a gentler tone, “I’ll make you anything you want.”
“Chocolate cake,” Mello was only half sarcastic.
A sigh from the woman, “How about a hamburger? Everyone loves hamburgers.”
“Nope,” Mello replied. A juicy steak occasionally, and even then he only picked at it, a fact that amused his former boss endlessly. There would be this tiny teenager, barely over five and a half feet with a steak larger than his head who never finished the meal.
“Not even from McDonald’s?” she asked, as far as she could tell fast food was pretty much the most addictive thing available to kids under twelve.
“Ew,” Mello answered. “Lady, if I’m going to put something in my mouth I’d better know where the meat is coming from.” He was momentarily glad that Matt wasn’t there because otherwise he would have (at best) snickered (and at worst, and probably more likely, he would have made a sex joke.)
“It’s from cows,” Helen assured him.
“Yeah, but cows from the worst factory farms in the country pumped full of hormones," Mello said.
"But the FDA..." she began, but Mello cut her off.
"The FDA can be bought, especially by the largest cooperation in America," Mello answered. "Those cows get unregulated hormones. No one'll tell you that but it's true."
"It's gotta be fit for..."
"Dog food?" Mello answered.
"I wasn't going to say that! I was gonna say human consump-"
"And fed other mutilated farm animals. They don't move, they don't go outside, they roll around in their own crap," Mello continued. Helen clearly didn't approve of Mello's language but he kept going even after she opened her mouth to interrupt him. "Even when they're slaughtered it's on a mass assembly line where almost everything can go wrong and ruin the meat. They die by a hammer to the skull, hammers that aren't necessarily cleaned between cows or even between workdays. And-"
“That’s disgusting!” Helen answered, “don’t talk like that in the kitchen!”
“Bet you don’t want to make me a hamburger anymore," Mello smirked.
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