{ 𝕒 } boomerang generation

[theminotaur]

WHO: Residents of Casa Ludgate-Graham & invited guests!
WHERE: Casa Ludgate-Graham
WHEN: Afternoon to evening of Saturday, Aug 8
WHAT: Abigail's 19th (???) Birthday Party!
WARNINGS: Um, Baltimore tbh?

-

While technically Abigail is unsure of how old she is -- there are too many missing months between Baltimore and Heropa and more between Heropa and Heropa -- nineteen is close enough and probably makes up for those missing months. Maybe.

But like Jeff said, it's foolproof.

She huffs and puffs about no party, but then Will made that face and she begrudgingly gave in so long as it was just a cook out and there were no streamers or balloons. Which is why the backyard is decked out with fairy lights and Chinese lanterns and a piñata in the shape of a llama, which she is not complaining about, and another in the shape of a bumblebee, which she vaguely protests because bees are good!

Cheeseburgers and hot dogs and chicken and other assorted barbecued meats are on the grill, there are bowls of macaroni salad, potato salad, pasta salad, regular salad, and a truly ridiculous amount of grilled veggies on the table out back. There are coolers full of soda and probably beer, tbh. The other alcohol is inside so the youths won't get it, presumably. At least that's what they're going with. Somewhere in the kitchen is a cake with candles.

Also there are dogs. And raccoons, both adult and funsize. And an impossibly fluffy cat who thinks she's a raccoon by now. But that seems to be the norm at the Ludgate-Graham home.


{ ooc: party post style, y'all. make a top level, tag around, be merry. make shit up on the menu. go cray. }

Comments

[infomodder]

[Picking up the bottle of water at the end of the grill, Will takes a long swig, eyes all on Mary. Is it getting hot in here or is there a beautiful woman winking at him? The former, he's standing in front of a grill, for fuck's sake. He's taken measures to keep his feet firmly planted here (a novelty, being grounded), but Mary is clever and resourceful. He's sure the pie is safe to be consumed. He'll probably call her later asking about the recipe because damn if it doesn't taste just like the one he snagged as a child...]

Wouldn't want me finding her and spilling secrets, I understand. [NO ONE IS GOING TO BE TOLD ANYTHING he is so full of shit it's a wonder he's ever out of the bathroom (soon to be patented as the Chilton).] You want anything grilled tonight, Mrs. Watson? Since you've got me while I'm chained to it, might as well make your request.

[sizetwelve]

[ What now? Must have been luck, that's all. Lucky Will, she'll say. What other recipes might she have picked up? ]

Ooh, good question. There's quite a lot. I'm assuming Frederick brought only the best in meat alternatives?

[ Likely intended mostly for his own consumption? ]

[infomodder]

[People recipes t b h.]

Abigail and I are good at picking out meat alternatives, too. He's not the only one with a limited diet. [Offense!!!! Huff huff, what, just because Frederick's lost a kidney he suddenly has the market cornered on best vegetarian foodstuffs? Will's the one who got a recipe dump from Freddie, okay, he's competent at avoiding meat!] Veggieburger then?

[sizetwelve]

[ But then she wouldn't get the fun of stealing from Chilton. (Also he still has to have the fanciest of the fancy, doesn't he?) Really she doesn't care what she gets, it's just an excuse to tease. She can tease Will instead of Chilton. ]

Oh, hurt feelings? Two of Will Graham's veggieburgers, then. They probably taste better without the pretension, anyway.

[ Or she can hit both at once, for the sake of multitasking (and affection, really it's there). She is watching, don't think you can spit on her burger. ]

[infomodder]

[Aw, look at that smile. Good girl, punching both scarred tummies at once! Will can approve. And since he's well aware of dietary restrictions and what it takes to keep them in line, there's a section of the grill reserved for all things non-meat, and a spatula too. No cross-contamination going on over here, no sir.]

Smother 'em in standard store-bought condiments, might be enough to cover up any pretentious flavors. [Double whammy approved, he moves to slap two of those veggieburgers down (using a piece of wax paper for his hands and everything, goodness, he must have bought half the butcher's shop tools) and get them started. So domestic! Drink it in, Marigold.] How are your children doing? Any new macaroni masterpieces?