Bro Strider (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
plushaeusrumpified) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-04-07 01:30 am
plushaeusrumpified) wrote in thecapitol2015-04-07 01:30 am
Entry tags:
crunch crunch crunch
Who| Bro Strider and anyone in the kitchens
What| Bro makes delicious desserts
Where| The kitchens
When| Mid-evening, a couple of days after the crowning
Warnings/Notes|
Sometimes a man just needs to bake. Sure he could just buy cupcakes from somewhere, but that just doesn't compare to the deliciousness of making your own damn cupcakes. He isn't actually a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but after farting around long enough and mixing up an unholy combination of eggs and flour, he's pretty sure he's gotten down the basics of cupcakes. He has the batter and he has the cupcake tin, what more does he need?
As it turns out, and as he realizes after he's taken his cupcakes out of the oven (which are, surprisingly, not terrible looking, if a little dry and lumpy), you do need something more than just that. You need goddamn frosting.
"Shit." It's a frustrated sigh after scouring the kitchen to see if he can find any frosting at all- he can't.
It's only then that his eyes come to rest on the bag of doritos (or the Capitol equivalent at least) he'd bought along with the baking supplies earlier. He stares at it, contemplating it with the same intensity as someone who's deeply contemplating their life choices. Then he shrugs, because this is actually way better than frosting could be.
Bro tears open the bag of doritos, promptly dumping them on the kitchen counter, before he starts to aggressively bash them with his fist to break them up into little crumbs. He could just squeeze them all, but if people can tenderize their meat then he can tenderize his goddamn doritos, right?
The noises are quite loud, and anyone happening upon him will see him standing at the counter with his frosting free cupcakes and him pounding his doritos as if his life depends on it.
What| Bro makes delicious desserts
Where| The kitchens
When| Mid-evening, a couple of days after the crowning
Warnings/Notes|
Sometimes a man just needs to bake. Sure he could just buy cupcakes from somewhere, but that just doesn't compare to the deliciousness of making your own damn cupcakes. He isn't actually a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but after farting around long enough and mixing up an unholy combination of eggs and flour, he's pretty sure he's gotten down the basics of cupcakes. He has the batter and he has the cupcake tin, what more does he need?
As it turns out, and as he realizes after he's taken his cupcakes out of the oven (which are, surprisingly, not terrible looking, if a little dry and lumpy), you do need something more than just that. You need goddamn frosting.
"Shit." It's a frustrated sigh after scouring the kitchen to see if he can find any frosting at all- he can't.
It's only then that his eyes come to rest on the bag of doritos (or the Capitol equivalent at least) he'd bought along with the baking supplies earlier. He stares at it, contemplating it with the same intensity as someone who's deeply contemplating their life choices. Then he shrugs, because this is actually way better than frosting could be.
Bro tears open the bag of doritos, promptly dumping them on the kitchen counter, before he starts to aggressively bash them with his fist to break them up into little crumbs. He could just squeeze them all, but if people can tenderize their meat then he can tenderize his goddamn doritos, right?
The noises are quite loud, and anyone happening upon him will see him standing at the counter with his frosting free cupcakes and him pounding his doritos as if his life depends on it.
no subject
"I will have exactly as much air in my alien aeration sacks as I please," he snaps, as if it's worth argument. "And I'll have you know there's at least one person here shorter than I am, and not my a small degree." He holds his hand out at roughly the height of one Samwise Gamgee. His face is very serious.
"Besides which, you're still making a mess. Did you never stop to consider some way of containing that shit? Or are you just going to sweep it all onto... whatever you're trying to make without a care for neatness or anything?"