Comments | plutoixlogs: Satan Is My Motor

fuckedyourfruit in plutoixlogs

Satan Is My Motor

Oct 22, 2009 21:36

DATE: 116
CHARACTER(S): fuckedyourfruit, plutoixfuckers, kitchen staffers, and so many more!
STATUS: OPEN TO EVERYONE, GET IN HERE
SUMMARY: Well, you couldn't really be terribly surprised when you woke up this morning, and the new kitchen staff has decided to run amok. Come and get a bite to eat.

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
LOCATION: Kitchen and Cafeteria ( Read more... )

palpatine, †bree van de kamp, fruit fucker 2000, †abel nightroad, †touda, quatre winner, meet the fuckers

Comments 24

hellsfire_snake October 23 2009, 01:51:32 UTC

Tsuzuki for one loved breakfast. That was the logical start in finding a master that had ultimately disappeared. He didn't approach the kitchen and sat in one of the far corners of the cafeteria. He had already eaten a few days before, and his metalic claws tapped mercilessly across the table, irriated in their endevour.

He couldn't help notice the clatter within the kitchen, but since it did not bother nor concern him, he made no move to investigate, only watched what his eyes could see. His foremost attention, was upon the door.

plutoixfuckers October 23 2009, 02:15:30 UTC

Pinky did a fantastic leap and twirl through the air - the kind that would leave Brian Boitano in reverent awe - and landed on the table right in front of Touda.

Something about this man lured it over. Maybe it was this deep down desire that could be sensed.

The desire for toasted bread products.

It was a lot like an after-sex cigarette. First the toast was fucked, and then it was left smiling from the afterburn of pleasure.

Or maybe that was just the toasting function.

"TOAST?" Pinky offered, one slice popping up, sinister smile emblazoned on the slice of bread visible.

"Isaid doYOU want some TOAST," Pinky spun in circles, shooting a whole line of toasted slices of bread right out of the slots at Touda.

Do not ask how Pinky fit that many slices of bread in there at once. No one wants to know.

hellsfire_snake October 23 2009, 02:20:56 UTC

And it was there, right in front of him --ignoring said flip or even mentioning it-- offering him toast. He turned his head, ignoring the piece of metal, until it badgered him the second time.

The first inital response would have been no had he had the chance to even respond and the shooting of toast curd the snake god to stand abruptly, grasping the table underneath and yanking it up to shield himself.

The edge of the table began to smolder under his hand.

"No.." Touda wanted to leave, but he had something he had to do.

plutoixfuckers October 23 2009, 02:33:34 UTC

Okay, Pink really didn't think the table stunts were really called for.

WHEN FACED WITH TOAST, ONE MUST OPEN THEIR MOUTH LIKE A WILLING RECIPIENT. Not attempt to shield.

A mechanical screech, and Pinky embarked in some more toaster-like acrobatics around the cafeteria, then screeched to a halt when it saw Touda do something.

Something so amazing that Pinky could barely contain itself.

"YOU," Pinky pointed several slices of bread at Touda, but made no attempt to fire them, "YOU are the great TOAST GOD. Toasting that table like a god of resilient wonder."

And with that, Pinky bowed down in front of Touda.

First the bowing. Next would be the promise of harems.

Thread 7

nano_crusnik_02 October 23 2009, 03:02:08 UTC

Abel quietly made his way into the cafeteria, having for once not managed to turn himself around and end up in the garden or something. Though, perhaps he shouldn't have started out so early in case he did get turned around..

So, he simply sat quietly at a corner of the area, eyes closed and chin rested upon a palm. It was a nice seat at least from his bit of walking. And yes, he happend to be humming something to himself, perhaps a hymm of some sort.

plutoixfuckers October 23 2009, 03:17:34 UTC

Unfortunately for Abel, the electric knife thought he looked hungry and came over to him with a hunk of something that resembled meat stuck to its long, serrated blade. As Rick drew closer to the priest, he powered up and sliced through the meat with an up and down motion that looked erotic if one's mind went in that direction and just weird otherwise. Up, down, up, down, and the motor sounded pleased, if that were even possible.

"How much meat do you like?" it asked Abel. Even that probably sounded wrong, given its continuing motions.

nano_crusnik_02 October 23 2009, 03:29:07 UTC

Saying he was startled by the electric knife would have been an understatement, staring a bit as he watched it cut what looked like meat. Though he did re-call there was not meat on board, so that made it very questionable as to what exactly was being cut, but he thought better of it and didn't ask.

"Um.." Abel couldn't look away, caught between disturbed and something else close to it, "Just.. Enough to help fill me?" Such a bad choice of words..

plutoixfuckers October 23 2009, 03:55:44 UTC

It wasn't meat, but it was amazing what could be done with the right seasonings and very high-gluten wheat. "Hail seitan!" Rick mumbled as he finished slicing the meat substitute and moved a large portion onto Abel's plate.

"Meat fills you up good when it's nice and hot."

[Seitan is pronounced like Satan and it is a real meat substitute. Bad joke is bad]

Thread 8

gunsandpearls October 23 2009, 03:50:10 UTC

Like any other day on Wisteria Lane, Bree Van de Kamp always chose to start her day with a healthy breakfast. The fresh-brewed coffee while catching up on her daily paper seemed to the perfect companions to that little span of time before it was time to face whatever the day had in store. Even here, in space, Bree came to look forward to that somewhat enjoyable part of her routine- a routine, that today, would be anything but.

Her position as Head Chef had made her transition to life in space somewhat easier to handle, even with the knowledge that she'd be serving some of the ship's stranger residents. Most everyone had been nice enough so far (except for that insufferable little blond who'd dared to refer to her as a "mongrel"), and her staff seemed to appreciate some of the changes she'd made as to how the kitchen operated as well as understanding her appreciation of cleanliness. She had no reason to expect that her kitchen had been left any different than it had from the night before-

Until she saw that someone or something had ( ... )

plutoixfuckers October 23 2009, 04:10:05 UTC

Blinky had been leaning over to collect its ingredients when Bree had entered the kitchen. A bit of milk, some piping-hot drippings, flour and spices swirled faintly in the clear container, lid sliding into place. It was a tragically beautiful sight, somehow, the buttons on Blinky's front display pressing in to chop and blend it into a smooth, creamy gravy for the biscuits. Which, by the way, were just about to run out of time on the timer there.

"Oh my oh my oh my! ♥You must be part of the ♥kitchen ♥staff!" it pipped, voice somewhat mechanical, just barely louder than the whirring of the blades that were alternating their movements, spinning one moment and then sliding up and down the shaft before they stopped. "♥Good ♥morning!" As Blinky finished speaking, it bounced over toward the Head Chef.

notfromajedi October 23 2009, 04:31:37 UTC

Palpatine was normally not much of a breakfast person. A cup of tea, a piece of toast, perhaps a glass of juice. He enjoyed his light breakfast leisurely, no matter if he was working or not.

This morning, he found himself highly anticipating his arrival at work (oh yes, he'd decided to work the morning shift after learning of FF's little helpers).

"~Good morning!~" he called out cheerfully in a sing-song voice. "Fucker? You here?"

plutoixfuckers October 24 2009, 02:09:08 UTC

Ah, the humans were arriving in full force today, weren't they?

Aside from being created by Mom, he who had such long pretty blond hair, the sharklike mixer had yet to make itself particularly sociable. Fuckington knew, quite naturally, that this had to be remedied.

So it lurked, it followed, grinning sharklike (not that it had a choice, Clyde was a mixer of limited expressions). This one didn't have pretty hair, a shame really.

The stealth aspect didn't work too well considering it was presently whisking a batter into a smooth mass. Yet through some mysterious and indeterminate means, it still managed to come up from behind, its power cord whipping out to curl curiously around Palpatine's hand.

"Looking for a good Fucker?"

notfromajedi October 24 2009, 02:36:42 UTC

Palpatine jumped slightly at the cord 'shaking' his hand. Yes, he could see the resemblance!

"Oh my! Hello ~ I was looking for Fruit Fucker 2000. Is he your daddy?" He smiled curiously at the mixer. Those shark teeth rather reminded him of his former roommate, Alucard.

quatrew October 23 2009, 19:23:43 UTC

Quatre had set out today to go looking for a job. His father had said before any important business, he should enjoy a hearty breakfast to give him enough strength to do what needed to be done.

The door to the cafeteria swished, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

One of the dining tables was turned over and scorched, dozens of blackened slices of toast nearby. He also noticed another appliance - a blender, moving all on its own!

Oh dear. These must be those new appliances that Watari had warned about.

Quatre decided to hold back on breakfast until the current carnage--er, traffic-- on the buffet line cleared up. He took a seat in the dining room, back in a secluded corner - well, as secluded as one could get in an open air dining room.

fuckedyourfruit October 24 2009, 02:51:53 UTC

Fruit Fucker, to his infinite credit, was doing what he did best. Spreading the love.

Holding back, taking a corner, well, that made Quatre all the more tempting to serve, really. All the interesting humans took corners. There was even a trope all about it, if the Fucker recalled correctly. (And he did. All that time servicing those two gamers back home with his delicious juice? An appliance picked up a few things.)

"Hey, baby, how you doin'?" it leered, skittering out from under a table with no earthly indications how it had gotten there. Clutched carefully in its sharp little claws was a glass of orange juice, an offering.

There was nothing better than being someone's first.

quatrew October 24 2009, 02:58:57 UTC

Well, so far, it hadn't been too disturbing - outside of seeing a juicer move on its own volition... but at least he hadn't been attacked. (Yet.)

Quatre quirked one eyebrow. "Hello," the blond said in return. He noticed the orange juice that this appliance was offering. It seemed tame enough. Quatre tentatively took the glass from the Fruit Fucker, and sniffed at its contents. He couldn't smell anything other than freshly squeezed oranges. He took a small sip of the drink.

Not bad at all, Quatre thought.