sanji my man i know youre prob gonna be insanely busy with holiday cooking coming up but if i needed a batch of eggnog for say idk at least 200 people do you think you could swing it
you're practically a cook, too! you've given me more than enough to work off of. if you bring me the rabbit, i'll pull out some herbs i'd wager were in the recipe, and you can smell them and see if they're familiar. i promise i'll do my best to make your mother proud.
no drag as in dudes in dresses ladies in suits crossdressing gender impersonation whatever you wanna call it its an art form but its also a performance
no one yet i mean except me but im also hosting so duh still working out the details before i send out an open casting call but if youre interested i can go ahead and put your name down
singing dancing a little bit of comedy to keep it light some ppl even do more carnival type shit but its really up to the individual performer and what their style is
im not expecting 200 people im expecting way less than that to be drinking for like 2 hours straight so i wanna make sure theres enough to go around several times and if theres any left i'll drink the rest myself okay chill out
so you are interested 😏 as long as youre in drag sure but it still has to be like entertaining you know like those hibachi dudes who do crazy shit with knives or whatever oh and also holiday themed bc this is a holiday show it can be one of your holidays if you dont have christmas
( left outside sanji's door on the 12th, sanji will find what might be a familiar bag, reminiscent of sol & scroll's paper bags. the items inside are folded in scant tissue paper, like their wrapper instinctively intended to keep the fragile items tucked inside safe, and decided — at the last second — not to bother. all of the items inside are handpainted, including: an ashtray for his cigarettes, drink coasters in the shapes of various colorful fruits, a set of four plates with floral designs, a decorated tray to hold his eggs as he bakes, and a kitschy set of measuring cups.
underneath the pile of gifts sits a hastily written note that appears jaggedly torn off from a journal page: )
I couldn't let these go to waste, and there's no other chef in the kitchen that would make use of them. I made these for you when I still thought we were friends — but friends don't let their other friends think badly of them, and then do nothing to defend them when they're being treated unfairly.
That's not your fault. It's mine, for thinking anyone in this place won't put their own people above everyone else.
We're even, now. I don't owe you anything more for what you did for me.
everyone says they're fine, and then they're not. and it's not about being a crew, we don't even have a ship here, but it is about making sure my friends are okay. this place sucks, it's a cage with food that enjoys making us hurt.
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