The Pie Maker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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entranceway2014-04-14 02:35 pm
wordvomit) wrote in entranceway2014-04-14 02:35 pm
1st π | action/accidental transmission | The facts were these...
[The facts are these: the Pie Maker, having achieved a minor victory through closure and personal reassurance from Vivian Charles, having swept his infatuated employee out of harm’s way, having said a fond goodnight to Chuck before turning in for the evening, could not sleep.
This anxiety-ridden slumber (or lack thereof) left him tossing and turning and recalling with no small amount of dismay that the same thing had happened many years ago when he was a student at the Longborough School for Boys. Haunted by his mother’s memory and the father who had abandoned him, Young Ned had crawled out of bed and pitter-pattered to the kitchen to bake a pie.
In an effort to recapture the simple pleasure that was an apple pie from his youth, the Pie Maker had stumbled out of his apartment, down several flights of stairs, and stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he turned the kitchen lights on.
It was not his kitchen.
It is now half-past seven in the morning, and Ned is anxiously stuffing another pie into one of the many ovens, having discovered a funny little phone with a funny little case in his pocket...along with a pamphlet on Wonderland.
Hence the stress baking.]
It could be a trick, [he mumbles to himself, pulling out another wad of dough and kneading it onto a flour-dusted marble slab. Ned wipes his forehead. The flour finds a new home on his temple and cheek.] Just...a funny prank, like the ones people pull on April Fool’s Day, only it’s not April, it’s October, so that doesn’t make any sense-
[The dough gets a vigorous and probably undeserved shove.]
-and any second now Olive is going to say it was Chuck’s idea, and they’ll be hiding in the walk-in fridge andohGodI’mlosingmymind.
This anxiety-ridden slumber (or lack thereof) left him tossing and turning and recalling with no small amount of dismay that the same thing had happened many years ago when he was a student at the Longborough School for Boys. Haunted by his mother’s memory and the father who had abandoned him, Young Ned had crawled out of bed and pitter-pattered to the kitchen to bake a pie.
In an effort to recapture the simple pleasure that was an apple pie from his youth, the Pie Maker had stumbled out of his apartment, down several flights of stairs, and stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he turned the kitchen lights on.
It was not his kitchen.
It is now half-past seven in the morning, and Ned is anxiously stuffing another pie into one of the many ovens, having discovered a funny little phone with a funny little case in his pocket...along with a pamphlet on Wonderland.
Hence the stress baking.]
It could be a trick, [he mumbles to himself, pulling out another wad of dough and kneading it onto a flour-dusted marble slab. Ned wipes his forehead. The flour finds a new home on his temple and cheek.] Just...a funny prank, like the ones people pull on April Fool’s Day, only it’s not April, it’s October, so that doesn’t make any sense-
[The dough gets a vigorous and probably undeserved shove.]
-and any second now Olive is going to say it was Chuck’s idea, and they’ll be hiding in the walk-in fridge andohGodI’mlosingmymind.