voidtreckerexpress | Egret, Day 26 | Kitchen

Curufin returns to the kitchen with his cleaning implements. Deadly as the swords of the Noldor, the sponge, mop, and pail of Curufin. Kitchen bacteria, beware!

He greets Glorfindel cheerfully. "We meet again! What fearsome culinary project are you embarked upon this time?"

Glorfindel grinned at him. "I am on cooking duty currently. I figured with as many boars we had show up in the luggage car, if anyone needed assistance in butchering and cleaning them, or making sausage, I would make myself available. If they do not need my assistance, I can just keep their knives sharp."

He eyed Curufin's weapons of choice. "And then you can clean up the mess?"

"Yes, I figured you were. All right, we can have pork sausage for breakfast with our scrambled eggs, right?" Grin. "Nobody can sharpen a knife better than a First Age Elvish warrior!"

He sets his bucket down, grins again, and then grips his mop as though he were using it to block as spear-wielding enemy's thrust. "No floor too dirty, no chopping block too slathered with animal or vegetable juices, no counter too messy, and no dish or pan too caked with encrusted food, but that I, Curufin, shall overcome it! This is my motto these days." His shoulders are shaking with laughter. "Of course I'll clean up the mess. You have only to make one for me to clean up."

"Of course not," Glorfindel agreed. "We've had the most practice, after all!"

He looked around the kitchen which was currently spotless as no one had come yet. So he dipped his finger into the container of flour and flicked it at Curufin. A little might have even landed on his friend's nose.

[edited to take the fun out of Curufin. LOL, typos]

Edited 2020-04-26 23:05 (UTC)

"True. We've sharpened our swords so often that we could literally do it in our sleep."

There was a reason the kitchen was currently spotless. It was because Curufin had come in very early that morning and cleaned it before anybody had a chance to cook in it.

He had to laugh when Glorfindel flicked the finger's worth of flour at him. He wiped off his nose with the back of his hand -- which actually only smeared it further, and made him look silly -- and then lifted the mop again, using it as a distraction. "You dare to attack a warrior of Aglon with the contents of a flour tin?? Deadly as are your cooking supplies, my weapons are worse!" Swiftly, he picked up a sponge off the edge of the sink and tossed it at Glorfindel.

Edited (LOL, typos and rewrites here, too.) 2020-04-27 01:34 (UTC)

Glorfindel caught the sponge, staggering back as though stabbed in the gut. "Oh, it is a wound to the quick, I don't know if I will survive," his other hand 'accidentally' landed in the flour again, before he flung it toward Curufin in a not quite beseeching pose, "save yourself, my friend!"

Curufin laughed and tried to duck the handful of flour, but it struck him anyway and completely dusted the front of his jacket.

"Fear not, noble Glorfimdel! If the awful strike of a sponge slays you not with the first blow, then you can still be victorious. Let us not fight one another but instead fight beside each other against the deadly kitchen foes."

He grabs the sponge off the floor, holds it up like a puppet, and makes it talk in a squeaky voice: "Know you this, Glorfinel and Curufin, you cannot prevail against me, the Servant of the Dark Kitchen. I shall mop you up along with the spilled food on the counter, and you will exit this world down the drain as I rinse you off under the faucet. Fear me!"

Glorfindel held his hand to his forehead as though about to swoon, leaving a clear flour mark there. "No! Not the Sponge of Doom! I thought it vanquished long ago, yet it has reared it's terrible visage once again!"

He held up a spatula, still clean, from the jar of utensils. "Beside me, Curufin the Just, we still have time to whip something up and wring this sponge out and wipe our tears with its porous fluff!"

[Cause...onions. Bleh. LOL]

"Indeed," agreed Curufin, darkly. "The Sponge of Doom returns to wreck havoc upon Middle-earth! Whatever shall we do??" He, too, flung a theatrical wrist to his forehead. He already had flour on his nose and forehead, so no worse could befall him!

He looked around swiftly for a weapon other than his mop, and swiftly he sprang upon the utensils jar and seized a big mixing spoon. He leapt to the side of his friend, brandishing the spoon at the evil sponge. "We shall fight this battle together, Glorfindel the Brave! And we shall not lose."

Then he made the sponge laugh maniacally, still speaking in its squeaky voice: "Two Elves are no match for me, the Sponge of Darkness! Nay, even a whole platoon of Elves could not overcome my terrible magic! En garde!"

Edited 2020-05-08 07:44 (UTC)

"Noooo, do not let him wipe the floor with us!" Glorfindel protested. "I am too pretty to be used as a mop! I will get wrinkly hands!"

He flipped the spatula around and poked at the soft belly of the sponge-monster. "Take that!" Then he promptly ducked behind Curufin. "Ha! I got him a good one, I saw fluid gush out. Let us wring him dry!"

"We don't have a platoon of Elves, whatever shall we do?" He sobbed onto the shoulder he was now peaking at the sponge over.

"We are both too pretty to be used as mops!" wailed Curufin, waving his spoon threateningly at the sponge. "You shall not give my friend Glorfindel wrinkly fingers! I will die before i see that happen."

Then he cheered as Glorfinel stabbed the dreadful sponge with his spatula. "Sponge of Doom, prepare to meet your doom!" He made the sponge cringe and flop, and then rear its spongy head again, threateningly.

He turned to the other Elf and spoke words both encouraging and inciting. "A new day dawns! We may not have a full platoon of Elves, let alone a company, but we shall stand up to the terrible spells and threats of this evil being. We shall fight and regain the kitchen and drive this kitchen sink demon from our domain!"

And he lunged at the sponge with his spoon. The sponge screeched and cursed, but it backed up, clutching at its middle.

"We are not mop heads," Glorfindel agreed.

"Watch out, I think it might retaliate! Cover your eyes!" Glorfindel said, as he ducked behind Curufin again, so the Sponge could not squirt him. "Hit it again, it frightens me!"

Really, he was laughing so hard that the honest truth was, he couldn't stand up straight.

~~Speak for yourself, Glorfindel. Curufin is a mop head.~~ "We are not mop heads! We are fine examples of Elvish courage and nobility, two Elves standing upon a ~~soapy kitchen floor~~ magnificent mountainside, our magnificent hair streaming in the wind."

When Glorfindel ducked behind Curufn again, Curufin raised his deadly spoon again and struck at the sponge. He bonked it on the head, and it fell squealing and cursing onto the floor. It landed with a splat!

Curufin was having the same problem as Glorfindel was; he was laughing so hard that he could barely wield the spoon. But he managed to swat the sponge one more time. "Take that, you wicked creature! Go to your grave regretting that ever you attacked the guardians of the Voidtrecker kitchen!"

After the 'excitement' of the earlier hours, Trowa hadn't gotten a lot of sleep. Entering the kitchen, he made himself a strong cup of coffee before leaning against the counter and watching. "Do you know how to tan leather for making knife sheaths?"

Glorfindel looked up. "In fact, I do. It is a time intensive process and does create a unique odor. Although with as many knives and swords that showed up after this mission, it might be a worthy project. If you can talk any of the mighty hunters out of the boar skin, I will teach you how."

Probably best done in the Garden Car, though, so they could hose everything down afterward.

"I suppose I will have to find out who the ones who brought these back. I admit, I haven't been very good about learning people's names."

"There is a roster, but I have not met everyone yet. I believe Creed brought back two, however. Perhaps he will have some hide to spare?" Glorfindel smiled at him. "Boar is a little thick, though. So if you would prefer to make it out of wood, I can also teach that."

"I have about seven knives that are needing sheaths. Do you think wood would last better? Most of my construction skills are with metal, and we don't have an abundance of scrap that I could use." Not to mention the god awful sound it would make to draw a metal knife from a metal sheath. Not great for stealth, at all.

"Depends on how you make it," Glorfindel admitted. "But I usually have to replace most wooden sheaths every hundred years or so, as opposed to eighty or so if made from hide."

"If you would be willing to teach me, I would be very interested in learning how to make those." Trowa wouldn't live long enough to need to replace knife sheaths made of wood, based on that.

"How big is the knife?" Glorfindel asked.

Trowa huffed in amusement. "Which one? I have about seven needing sheaths." Duo had done well for him when they were on the mission.

"All right," Glorfindel nodded. "Then I will need to know what type of blade they are: for eating, throwing, carving, or fighting; how long they are; how wide they are just under the crossbar or hilt; and how you intend to carry them. You are also going to need some way of fastening them to your belt."

"There's a variety of them, I think. My society isn't as dependent on knives as yours may have been, so I'd be happy to have some expertise on them. I know some are roughly the size of the throwing daggers my sister uses as part of our act in the circus we're part of. She's the knife thrower and I'm her target."

Glorfindel gave him a quick scan up and down. "I take it she's very good and you haven't managed to anger her unnecessarily." Brothers and sisters could scrap like no one else, in his opinion.

"I would be happy to look them over. Do any of them need sharpening?" he asked with a significant look at his sharpening stone that he was holding at that moment.

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Food fight vs Cleaning Instruments of Doom?

Totally!

Re: Totally!

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