Hannibal's house (which seems much bigger today), Saturday morning

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal woke, yawned, stretched, and stumbled out of bed. He didn't remember where he was, but it seemed okay. He rubbed his eyes blearily as he glanced around, then headed downstairs.

Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any cooks or other workers here. Well, he could manage himself. Probably.

He opened the refrigerator, pulled up a stool, and got out eggs and butter and a pan. He could do this!

How much butter did you put in eggs?


[OOC: Open post!]

Comments

[furnaceface]

Jono gave a little squint at that, and then ventured, "Hallo?"

And then, after a brief pause, a very rough, not particularly certain-sounding, "Sprichst du deutsch...?"

[sharp_as_knives]

Hannibal's face lit up. "Ja! Eh...ein...bisschen?" he tried.

[furnaceface]

"Nicht gut," Jono added, scuffing his toe awkwardly. And then shrugged his shoulder lopsidedly. Hey, it was better than nothing, right? Better than babbling past one another and saying a whole lot and nothing in particular.

[sharp_as_knives]

It was definitely better! Hannibal thought for a minute. "Der Haus - wo ist die...erm...Männer?" Surely this house belonged to someone?

[furnaceface]

Jono took a moment to parse that, and then he shrugged, looking around thoughtfully.

"Ich weiß nicht," he admitted. And then, after another pause, added, "viel Geld?"

They had to be filthy rich. Look at this place!