6th BORK: | video | VURT DA FURK

[wordvomit]

[What's that jaunty tune making its way through the tinny speakers on your communicator? Why, it's a charming polka accompanying the nonsensical humming of the one and only Swedish Sweet-ish Chef!]

Herm dee derm dee dee, bee yung ga durka dur, ye-oh gooday on gorp fum bork bork bork!

[Considerably shorter than his usual six-feet-and-four-inches, felted fingers slipping on slick metal utensils as they fly out of his hands and across the room, the Pie Maker Sweet-ish Chef find himself...frustrated, even as his toque bounces in a most delightfully charming fashion. His work is worthwhile and he has long-since abandoned stainless steel for wooden implements while attempting to mix a pie filling, productivity cut in half no thanks to the event.]

Hrrmmm. Herty der flerty floopin. I shmer der floompty...hoon chocolate mousse!

[Perhaps the most annoying part of this experience outside of having little control over his limbs is the constant compulsion to talk when everything that he says makes absolutely no sense.]

Lee me shur hurr de chocolate- [Watch his dexterity as he carefully grips the dish of thick, rich chocolate, spooning it into a large bowl!] -und der handee mit on de hue- [Admire his prowess with the spatula as he flings it across the kitchen as soon as he's done with it!] -list andee hun derfa badiska doo! Now, fer doo mousse!

[See him turn to fetch- oh, no, that's a real goddamn moose he's trying to put into a pie.

Okay.]

Comments

[voice]

[coldhardy]

Wait!

[Elsa sounds urgent. She's not on camera, because she doesn't... well, she doesn't look right, just now. She looks like someone sculpted her.]

What are you doing to that reindeer?!

[video]

[wordvomit]

Gee flurgety derdo day!

[he explains as though it were obvious, scooping up spoonfuls of chocolate and drizzling them on top of the moose's head.]

[ video ]

[honesta]

[ Elijah is less than pleased to be experiencing this. He's taken to hiding in his room to avoid Niklaus. The last thing he needs is his brother getting any sort of ammo. ]

One! One utensil.

[ That wasn't how he planned to start this conversation. Though he has absolutely no idea what this man is trying to say. Probably hindered by this event from Angel's world that's been thrust unto them. ]

Two! Two utensils!

[ This is followed by the most exasperated sigh. Guess who is a grumpy puppet vampire? This guy. ]

One! One moose. Ha. Ha. Ha. [ A beat. Finally he speaks. Though his usual accent is gone and instead replaced by an Eastern European one. Thick and quite possibly over the top. ] I can't seem to get a handle on this. It seems you can't either.

[ video ]

[wordvomit]

[In a similar fashion the former Pie Maker is appropriately accented, and while he can only contain a single emotion in his body at a time, the current one is accepting of his fate. The event will only last so long, and he gives a loose shrug, watching with casual indifference as his hand-flailing sends another spoon into the corner of the room.]

Hinga hurda eh oorp du timen. Der speekin ahn gotta blurden anda kurdis.

[He pats his moose on the nose, which is sticky with chocolate sauce.]

[ video ]

[honesta]

Three! Three utensils!

[ Unfortunately Elijah's emotion right now is annoyance. Extreme annoyance. Why is this happening? Why did this part of Angel's life get turned into an Event? What was even the point?

Please stop throwing things, Ned. He can't stop.

Not a single word of that is recognize by Elijah as English. He's not a familiar man. At least the puppet version of Angel was semi recognizable. If Angel hadn't been there to introduce himself he probably could have figured it out on his own. ]

Is chocolate sauce good for moose?

[Video]

[smiletime]

Hey-- hey!

[Maybe it's because he's just come off of a three-month blood-bender, or maybe it's because he can only hold so much emotion in this tiny puppet body of his, but Angel is finding himself feeling pretty damn urgently concerned about this poor moose.

Really, there's no way this can go well.]

You can't put a moose in a pie! He'll never fit!

[Right. Because that's the real issue here.]

[Video]

[wordvomit]

Snurdaken dee hoopta doodee doo!

[The Chef gestures at the moose, who appears to be contentedly eating out of the bowl of chocolate. The jury is out on whether or not this is safe for a moose.]

Heer de moose, un leeka di chocolate mit angistad hurden woopen dee?

[Video]

[smiletime]

[Angel is going to go with a Not Safe ruling, here.]

You--

[He squints, felt eyebrows drawing downwards dramatically.]

You can't feed a moose chocolate, either! It's been a long time since I've been able to eat people food on the regular, but I'm pretty sure that chocolate mousse doesn't involved actual mooses.

[The puppet, he is distressed. Disproportionately so.]

[Voice]

[wickedwest]

[Oh she is not even remotely doing anything with video until this nonsense is over and normally wouldn't bother, but just...what.]

What on earth are you saying? Or doing for that matter?

[She's just...completely lost right now. And might sound like a weird cross between Miss Piggy and her regular voice right now, but let's just not talk about that. Ever.]

[Persistent Video]

[wordvomit]

[What a familiar sound! One with which the Chef is acquainted, and he throws his hands up in excitement. The carving knife and honing steel rod escape his grasp and shatter several plates off-screen.]

Oh! Der piggy sneefen lekta chocolate? Monga greeta softu dee hur dum tee tum!

[wickedwest]

[..um what. She's not even sure what to say, yet somehow the words come out of her mouth pretty easily.]

And spoil my appetite? Wicked witches like me have to watch their girlish figures, you know.

[Why did she even say that? She hates this so much right now.]

[Video]

[breakthecurse]

NONONONO M-MR. NED, THAT ISN'T THE KIND OF MOUSSE YOU WANT...! MR. MOOSE DOESN'T GO IN THERE, PLEASE!

[She sounds absolutely frantic and very concerned for the well-being of Mr. Moose, who should probably not be baked into a pie, or into anything else for that matter.]

[Video]

[wordvomit]

[Fear not, young lady! For the moose - making a warbling and strange moose-like sound - is not going to be baked into a pie. The moose is simply incorporated into the dish in such a way that does not compromise the integrity of a full, moose-y flavor.

The Chef looks back at the screen from his current position, which is being on a step-stool, pouring chocolate on the moose's head.

Moose appears apathetic about the whole thing.]

Duree mona hummytum rudeedee?

[kickassqueen]

[ Okay, so this event? Way amusing. ]

Not sure how much demand you'll have for moose pie, master chef dude. You're not gonna stick it in their alive, are you?

[wordvomit]

Oh! Nooo, no no no, der moose yerdu gadoo ner dee wompty do-ga botty!

[All is perfectly explained when he picks up the empty pie tin, turns it upside-down, and settled it neatly on the top of the moose's head, between the horns of its rack.

The moose huffs and the Chef steps back, admiring his handiwork.]

Yorp too ingat, bork bork!

[dissemble]

[Like all good shoulder demons, Lucifer can only be seen by Ned when he appears on his shoulder.]

Oh no. What on earth are you planning to do to that moose, Ned?

[wordvomit]

[Holy shit, there's a tiny man on his shoulder.

The Chef uses his other hand to try and brush him off, as tiny Satans might be a food safety hazard and he is a professional.]

Deevil! Winga turden yop du honga geepo!

Action?

[onlyhomemade]

[Dodging flying kitchen utensils should theoretically be simple for a 2foot something bear. But he ducks anyway.]

Need some help there my Swedish friend?

[Cause this can't possibly go wrong.

He pauses to look up the long legs of the Moose and seems a bit perplexed.]

I don't think we should eat the Moose.

[Reaching way up to pat the poor thing on the nose.]

LIGHTS CAMERA

[wordvomit]

[The Chef, who is tall for a puppet but short for a person, nods along amiably at the newcomer and pushes a wooden spoon into the bear's fluffy paws. A sous chef is precisely what he needed to wrangle the main course of today's dining experience: a pot of lobster banditos.]

Dee robster und der hundefink ank geeberdo!

[He bats one of them over the head with a spatula to demonstrate, and it curses in Spanish.]

muppets terrify me so this took a lot

[malefice]

[ Kol was informed that wonderland could change you... he was also informed that Davina may be running a cooking show... He has to stare good and hard for a minute. Perhaps he was getting desperate, the multiple locator spells he'd tried to preform, one of which managed to give him a nerve splitting headache, all of them had been blocked by some source that had been stronger than him.

He didn't know what he should have been expecting but the moment the creature tries brings a moose into the equation Kol is downright disturbed, on levels he hasn't been in a long time. ]

You're surely not going to try to eat that?

[ There's no way this was Davina. He refused. ]

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEH

[wordvomit]

Ye meh orgei dur hinkerschtoof.

[Don't be silly, he appears to say as he waves a hand and another cooking implement gets a one-way ticket out the nearest window.]

Gadinka dee sca-deety doo.

[Obviously.]

[glumshoe]

[ S q u i n t.

Ned? Six Foot Ned, Piemaker Ned, Actually A Vegetarian And Therefore A Non Moose Pie-Maker Ned?

This has got to stop this before it gets too far and Ned has a terrible crisis and - hey, what happens if his life-returning power is intact? ]

I don't think this is one item you want on your menu, Ned.

[ PUT THE MOOSE DOWN NED.

...

NO NOT THAT WAY. ]

[wordvomit]

[The Chef, whose tiny puppet body is only made to accommodate one strong emotion at a time, is shocked by the appearance of a familiar figure whom he has not seen since before his return to this nefarious place. A pronounced GASP escapes him, and he turns to inform the moose:]

Yeh hurr de ver doo essinga gram-crackeree!

[The moose gasps as well and Chef nods sagely before flailing a ladle in Will's general direction.]

Ges un desverge der weher gadoo.

[anomaliiiiies]

Um. I don't think that is going to work.

[wordvomit]

[Chef disagrees. This is totally going to work, and that's why he's rolling out several heads of lettuce to make a salad that will accompany his delectable desert.]

Fur ingert durm doopty eh leh meh shoop?

[What he means is: why on earth would you say that?]