[center][IMG]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Mali%20Anson&name=Chris%27s%20Handwriting.ttf&size=50&style_color=D5FF00[/IMG] [hr][b]Location:[/b] Justice Asylum [hr][hr][/center] Whatever was happening on the other side of that line evidently out of the ordinary, and given the information she had been told about this place and the patients that inhabited it Mali did not especially care to know what was baffling the desk attendant. Unbidden images sprang to mind of sterile white office walls marred with the green-yellow-brown of human feces while someone wearing a used diaper on their head sings the Societ Union's national anthem into the phone line among other similarly improbable but unpleasant scenarios. Somehow she didn't quite buy the assurance that working at the asylum, even as a receptionist wasn't a bad experience. [color=D5FF00]"What do you mean by country food?"[/color] Mali asked, turning her head to look over her shoulder at Relic. [color=D5FF00]"Every country has food. Most types of cuisine are listed after their country of origin: Mexican, Chinese, Italian, Vietnamese, Thai, French, the list goes on. Are you talking about food commonly eaten in the rural US? Because that's also not a single sum game. What would be eaten back in New England wouldn't be the same as what's eaten in Wisconsin or Nevada. I'm not trying to nitpick, but seriously, I don't know what you're asking about."[/color]