Harrison: He’s destroying my kitchen
“How do I even—” Jett paused, and so did Harrison. “Where does thisgo?”
“Are you cooking or building a spaceship?” Harrison shouted, only to confirm.
“Shut the fuck up, Killinger.”
Harrison waited, grinning when Jett began panicking and spluttering.
“Wait—sorry! I didn’t mean to say that. I’m just stressed.”
“Shut the fuck up, Fraser.”
His phone vibrated, and Harrison checked his message.
Arlo: Jett is one man, Harrison. What could he possibly do to destroy a kitchen?
Harrison pondered his answer, all while being regaled by the sound of what could have been a battle happening behind him. It was easier to show his cousin, so he hit the recording button and let it go, while Jett kept crashing and cursing.
After thirty seconds of chaos, Harrison hit send and waited.
“Do you have anything with spice in this house?” Jett asked.
Harrison shrugged. “I have pepper on the counter.”
“Harrison, this is sad, bro.”
Yes, Harrison was so very,verysad. Those new countertops were expensive.
Arlo messaged him back, and he smiled when he read the response.
Arlo: The fuck is he doing? Slaying a fucking dragon?
Harrison: No, he’s making us supper
Arlo: …
Arlo: Is he making supper while having a seizure? How does one create so much noise?
Harrison: I don’t know, but at least my wildlife problem is solved. He’s sent every living creature within 5 km running for the hills
“Do you know where the milk is?” Jett asked.
Harrison wasn’t sure if Jett was serious, but when the pause dragged on, he said, “In the fridge?”
“Where?” The clatter of items getting shoved around in the fridge had Harrison biting his nails. “I don’t see—wait, got it.”
“The fuck do you need milk for?” Harrison asked, both dreading and wanting to know.
“It’s for the potatoes,duh.”
Harrison pinched the bridge of his nose and texted Arlo.
Harrison: He’s putting milk in the potatoes. Please send backup before he makes me hate food.
Arlo texted back immediately.
Arlo: Milk in potatoes makes them creamy, so he’s on the right path at least. I can’t believe you’re letting him touch your stuff. He must give good head.
