inspector_tsarvert | (no subject)

(no subject)

I read that Monsieur Enjolras is in a terrible mood so I shall post something to cheer him up.

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I have no desire to sample your stew, Monsieur. If I wanted any, I'm certain I can make it better. I studied in the Glienen Ienin Pitzen in Germany and the Moulin Rouge in France. I would have been a world-famous chef had I not decided to take up a different occupation.

I'll let you lick the bowl.

Promise.

I have no desire to lick your bowl, Monsieur!

Oh, I'm very, very confident I can offer something on the menu to appeal to you.

Highly doubtful, Monsieur! Considering how you dress while cooking, I may end up finding a hair in my food!

Oh gross!!

Don't worry, Gavroche - I've been informed that my cooking is absolutely sublime. The inspector just needs to have his palate properly developed.

I think I'll get some takeout instead so you can wine and dine him without my interference.

Remember to use protection!!!

Right you are! I'll make sure that I'm stocked up.

I'd be happy to turn on the hotplate and teach you a few things, my little Fabergé Egg...

Slow cooked...

Melt in the mouth...

Finger-lickingly delicious...

Cuisine...

I HAVE NO INTEREST IN SAMPLING YOUR CUISINE, MONSIEUR!

I am not your egg! I will thank you to cease your flirtations upon my person, good sir!

Another time, perhaps.

My cooking apron is always on for you, Milaya Moyna.

Perhaps you'd like to play pool some time?

Billiards is a man's sport. Are you certain you wish to try your luck against me?

Oh yes - I know my way around a billiard table (for more than one purpose)...

Then I shall take you up on that. Are you a betting man, Monsieur de Courfeyrac?

Ouch - you cut me to the quick with the particle -

Wait a moment. How do you know about...

Ah. Never mind.

I am indeed a betting man, Котёнок. Name your wager...or would you rather I did, as I'm the one challenged?

That depends on your terms, Monsieur. I've no desire to be betted into sleeping with you.

I would never coerce anyone into my bed.

I never need to.

Very well, if cash is what makes you happy, rather than, say, macarons at 12 paces or a kiss, then - vulgar though it may be - money it is. Name your bet.

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