138 // POOOORRRRRT. [Voice]

[major_west]

A celebrity chef? I think not. "Major Henry West" should be a sufficient enough identity.

[There's a brief pause as he investigates his item, briefly taken back by some strange noises emitting from it.]

...Morgan? Hello? Useless journal...

I'll be investigating the other rooms, should anybody have need of me.

[OOC: I'm about to embark on a

Comments

STATICKY FEEDBACK AHOY

[gimmethemap]

....n[fuzz]t craz[feedback screech] I'M NOT [screeeeeeeeech]

[major_west]

Morgan? I can't make out what you're saying.

she'll start coming in clearer after he goes downstairs. Maybe :|

[gimmethemap]

[bzzztSCREEE]ame is M[asdfcwersdf]ms.

[static]nry what did the Ad[weird droning over the static]

LET'S HOPE

[major_west]

[DAMN IT, West is worried.]

Can you write? Try typing, Morgan.

[He's hoping to find a loophole to the damn static, but he isn't sure how well it will work. The interference may prevent the messages from being sent, after all.]

[pleasesmirk]

I'm sure at some point, I critiqued your restaurant.

I was disappointed, naturally, to find the head chef had been trained in the Army, of all places, Major.

seriously. what.

[major_west]

Come now, the Army's quite capable of training adequate chefs. [SHUDDER NO, he remembers Jones's cooking.]

[pleasesmirk]

I'm sure that's what they told you. I'm just saying it explains a lot about the quality of the food at your restaurant.

[Swing is, for some reason, really getting into this restaurant critic thing.]

[major_west]

Oi! My restaurant is... well respected in its Zagat reviews.

[I LOVE IT.]

[major_west]

You sound like an action hero. My name is... Anthony Edwards. Tony to my mates, I suppose.