[Sam Tyler] What's cookin'?
Who: Sam Tyler, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Locke
When: Day 36, evening
Where: The cook/signal fire (eventually)
Invited: Everyone
Status: Complete
Sam's quarry stank. He strode out of the jungle praying that the pair of dead, overgrown lemmings he carried -- he hadn't a clue what the Corgi-sized rodents were -- hadn't permanently stunk up his clothes. If he recalled correctly Locke and the Winchester boys had the pleasure of game-cleaning duty. (Better them than me.)
Sam spotted the three sitting just inside the treeline near the fire. Locke was stretching a snake skin. The brothers were diligently plucking the feathers from two blue-footed boobies. Sam set off in their direction.
They smelled Sam coming well before they could have heard his footsteps in the sand. The brothers' faces screwed up comically. "Dude, what the hell are those things?" Dean shouted.
"They smell worse than boiled booby," Sam chimed in. His brother chuckled. After a moment of fighting it, Sam grinned as well.
Sam dropped his catch in the sand near Locke. "As long as they taste halfway decent cooked. These things edible, John?"
Locke picked one up by its tail, studied it briefly, then dropped it. "I don't see why not. They're nutria. Big rodents." He gave Sam one of his enigmatic smiles. "Slingshot?" Sam nodded. "Nice."
"Thanks."
"Damn, English," Dean said. "I think you're the first slingshot sniper."
"I suppose," Sam replied. He gestured at the nutria. "Will you blokes take care of these?"
"Sure thing."
"Ta," Sam grinned. "See you at dinner."
Sam had just enough time to bathe in the "swimming hole," change into clean clothes, and run two errands before dinner. The first errand required a brief return to the jungle. He palmed what he'd retrieved to avoid comments from the Guv. Then it was back to his and Hunt's shelter to shake out his sleeping mat.
Once Sam was satisfied that no more sand could be dislodged from the woven fibres he rolled up the mat and looked around for Susan. She was nowhere in sight, so Sam moved to her shelter. He set the mat down inside, laid the yellow orchid he'd picked on top, and headed for the fire for supper.
When: Day 36, evening
Where: The cook/signal fire (eventually)
Invited: Everyone
Status: Complete
Sam's quarry stank. He strode out of the jungle praying that the pair of dead, overgrown lemmings he carried -- he hadn't a clue what the Corgi-sized rodents were -- hadn't permanently stunk up his clothes. If he recalled correctly Locke and the Winchester boys had the pleasure of game-cleaning duty. (Better them than me.)
Sam spotted the three sitting just inside the treeline near the fire. Locke was stretching a snake skin. The brothers were diligently plucking the feathers from two blue-footed boobies. Sam set off in their direction.
They smelled Sam coming well before they could have heard his footsteps in the sand. The brothers' faces screwed up comically. "Dude, what the hell are those things?" Dean shouted.
"They smell worse than boiled booby," Sam chimed in. His brother chuckled. After a moment of fighting it, Sam grinned as well.
Sam dropped his catch in the sand near Locke. "As long as they taste halfway decent cooked. These things edible, John?"
Locke picked one up by its tail, studied it briefly, then dropped it. "I don't see why not. They're nutria. Big rodents." He gave Sam one of his enigmatic smiles. "Slingshot?" Sam nodded. "Nice."
"Thanks."
"Damn, English," Dean said. "I think you're the first slingshot sniper."
"I suppose," Sam replied. He gestured at the nutria. "Will you blokes take care of these?"
"Sure thing."
"Ta," Sam grinned. "See you at dinner."
Sam had just enough time to bathe in the "swimming hole," change into clean clothes, and run two errands before dinner. The first errand required a brief return to the jungle. He palmed what he'd retrieved to avoid comments from the Guv. Then it was back to his and Hunt's shelter to shake out his sleeping mat.
Once Sam was satisfied that no more sand could be dislodged from the woven fibres he rolled up the mat and looked around for Susan. She was nowhere in sight, so Sam moved to her shelter. He set the mat down inside, laid the yellow orchid he'd picked on top, and headed for the fire for supper.