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

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.]

jfc

[malefice]

[ Kol's eyebrows apparently intend to blast off into space, because he can't help but raise them. ]

...I think you might've... lost something. [ The cooking implement... his mind.... ]

As for whatever it is you're doing - [ Stop? ] Nevermind.

accept it, accept the muppet into your life

[wordvomit]

[The cooking implement is long-forgotten, and the Chef has moved onto cabbages. Blunderbuss in one hand and head of greens in the other, he finally looks at the stranger with a perplexed, puppet-y expression.]

...Furtinken?

absolutely not

[malefice]

I'm sure you've just asked me something brilliantly existential, but I'm fairly certain you're not actually speaking an existing language.

[ S q u i n t ]

it is your destiny

[wordvomit]

Skeebly-boop deh hurr she-durr,

[he replies indignantly, tossing the cabbage into the air and aiming the gun with the expertise of a puppet wielding a gun.

Which is to say, with very little skill.

He fires and makes it rain green...brussels sprouts, that is. Don't ask. Just don't.]

I REFUSE

[malefice]

[ Kol's gaze follows the cabbage, and then the brussel sprouts as they rain down...

He's in hell.

It's real and he's in it. ]

Right, this was all very enlightening.