Deadline tomorrow.

Must work, no time for talking.

...Except for a couple short stories.

Lesson one: Never let an Irish girl cook for you

As one fateful night, we did. The dish on menu was mac and cheese, an Irish favourite apparently. She did the shopping, we all threw her some money as we could back then with our fresh loans still in pocket, and she began cooking. We didn't suspect a thing, it could only go well.

Our suspicions were aroused around the time that she did begin cooking, but these were only issues of minor recipe discrepancies- however she claimed she knew it backwards so we blindly conceded. We returned to our rooms for several hours.

As the time came, we assembled around the table- all 6 of us minus the Fabled Beared Man, who had already hidden away in his cave for many weeks by this point. The dish was served, the wine poured and the thanks given to our master chef.

And it truly was wonderful, a very thick texture and flavour unlike most other things. We asked for the ingredients, and she told us. She began to run down her list, from top to the bottom until we did a double take.

"Sorry, repeat the last one?"

She admitted, straight faced, to putting a whole tub of butter into this meal.

Being ever so weary of what he eats, Stealth China's face whitened. I look to the other members of the group, as we all leave a little on our plates, claiming to be so full from the wonderful portioning. 

I'm probably still working off that butter. That, or dying a slow and horrible heart disease related death from it. Remarkably, that is the last time that we let her cook for us, and slowly the meals between us began to decrease. We're lucky to have one a month now, minus special occasions. 

It's sad, but that's what Irish cooking does to people.

Lesson two: Discover new instruments

This isn't really a story, more of a thought.

We discovered two new instruments tonight. Live, onstage, the Punk will now begin playing the stock market and the ambience.

The idea behind these instruments are simple. Well, very simple actually. You literally have a laptop connected to the internet, watching the stock market, while waving your arms around attempting to make a small impact on the ambience of the room. It's genius, so simple that we can't believe anyone else hasn't thought of it.

It'll catch on, you wait.

Oh, it's 2:15. SHIT, DEADLINE.