RP log
It's like the kindergarten from hell. Or *in* hell, whichever. There are goblins wrestling on the floor, rolling under the tables and even hanging from the walls, not that this seems to mean anything to Chef. Sarah thinks that maybe they (the goblins) are they're drawn to the smell. It's not exactly unpleasant, but it would make anyone sane within a thirty foot radius crave a bath. Which Sarah does, but is trying to suppress.
"I think I'm done with these," Sarah says, tipping the last of the chops leeks in a basket. Chef merely glances at her, then goes back to stirring the large pot with the oversized label. Sarah waits a moment before carefully adding, "So where do you want them?"
"Toss 'em over there," Chef gestures with one of the arms. "And don't make a mess!"
Sarah refrains from commenting on the general state of the place, and carefully steps over the goblins rolling about on the floor to put the basket on a table. She stands there for a moment, letting her gaze sweep down the back of the kitchen, where at least five more larger pots are bubbling happily.
Suddenly she finds herself wondering Chef cooks for all the goblins in the Goblin City. She certainly can't imagine any of them cooking for themselves, if they cooked at all. They came off as the sort that ate whatever they could find just as they found it. So she asks. "Are you cooking for the goblins?"
"Hah!" Chef snorts. One overly long limb stretches out to take a pepper grinder from a shelf. "His Majesty is havin' a getwhatcha."
"A what?"
"Nah, a getwhatcha. Them togethers, y'know?" Chef samples the contents of the pot with her wrinkled little mouth, and nods with satisfaction to herself.
"You mean, like a party?" Sarah asks, approaching Chef and her pot. Up close, Sarah's surprised to find that the smell wafting up from the pot is actually not that bad.
Chef snorts at the embarassed grumbling of Sarah's stomach. Limbs dancing, Chef dumps a full ladle of the stuff into a bowl and thrusts it, along with a wooden spoon, into Sarah's arms. She dutifully sits and eats, carefully focusing on the taste rather the items that had been sacrificed in order to make it.
"It's the Majesty's summer getwhatcha," Chef says. "So we's been workin' overtime."
"I can see that," Sarah says. "Will there be a lot of people coming?"
Chef's eyes twitch, as though she's trying to decide exactly what encompasses the ter 'people'. Eventually she shrugs. "Don't know. Always changes. The goblins'll all be put to bed by sundown, that's fersure."
Sarah glances above the rim of the bowl. "You can put goblins to bed?" Chef gives her a look, and she remembers who she's dealing with. "Oh, right."
"The city'll be empty by twilight," Chef said. "If you's wanting to leave, you's better be doin' it before then."
"Do you know the way out?" Sarah asks quickly.
"Never been out," Chef shrugs. "Try the back stairs. The parcels arrive through there." She gestures her chin toward a small wooden door half Sarah's height at the back of the kitchen. Sarah could've sworn it hadn't been there before. Figures.
"Thank you," Sarah says. She passes the bowl back. "And that was wonderful, really."
To her surprise, Chef beams from one wrinkly end of her face to the other. "No one's said that to me before."
"Well, it's true," Sarah says, nodding. "And thank you again."
Then she runs.