[ Dream // 008 ]
"Sir?"
Sid, not yet a zombie, is standing behind Shinigami, looking rather apprehensive. Thanks to the viewer's convenient view placement, all that can presently be seen is Shinigami's mask, and just beyond that, Sid's unpleasant expression.
The viewpoint moves out slowly.
Slowly.
Sloooooowly.
And now, the viewer has a great view of what can only be described as a culinary monstrosity. In fact, it looks the strewn and pureed contents of a fridge after exploding from a blender. Eggs, milk, flour, sugar, Tabasco sauce, peanut butter cookies, and an unopened package of Tic-Tacs are but a few of the myriad of ingredients which comprise the goo on the table.
"I don't eat raw eggs," Sid says, looking from Death's blank visage to the mess. "That's the kind of man I am."
It seems as though Shinigami doesn't hear him. "I think a cooking show might be a bad idea~"
"You think?!"
===
Never was any good at cooking. Nope.
Sid, not yet a zombie, is standing behind Shinigami, looking rather apprehensive. Thanks to the viewer's convenient view placement, all that can presently be seen is Shinigami's mask, and just beyond that, Sid's unpleasant expression.
The viewpoint moves out slowly.
Slowly.
Sloooooowly.
And now, the viewer has a great view of what can only be described as a culinary monstrosity. In fact, it looks the strewn and pureed contents of a fridge after exploding from a blender. Eggs, milk, flour, sugar, Tabasco sauce, peanut butter cookies, and an unopened package of Tic-Tacs are but a few of the myriad of ingredients which comprise the goo on the table.
"I don't eat raw eggs," Sid says, looking from Death's blank visage to the mess. "That's the kind of man I am."
It seems as though Shinigami doesn't hear him. "I think a cooking show might be a bad idea~"
"You think?!"
===
Never was any good at cooking. Nope.