Jen hadn’t bothered to wash; his clothing was far dirtier than the others and he had no extra pair. Washing only to use these rags would be a pointless affair, and so he didn’t. Perhaps there was a complimentary change of clothes provided mentioned by one of the servants, but he couldn’t recall it. He’d mosey on over to the dining room to meet the others. Just then, Sil would fling some mashed potatoes at him and as if on reflex, Jen would catch the errant food in his mouth. He’d watch Sil make a mess and make a disappointed look as he swallowed the potatoes.  It was wrong, all wrong!

He knew that other nations and their cuisine weren’t as developed as his home nation, but this was dire. Making some half-decent mashed potatoes wasn’t that hard, but somehow this succeeded in failing an easy task. They were lumpy, but not in a good way, absolutely bland, and a little watery. He’d look at the others and their reactions to the food. It seemed nobody was enjoying the meal. He’d take a piece of the unimpressive-looking roast, and tasting it only confirmed just how bad it was.

[color=aec957] “Sense and seasonings… I know your cuisine lacks compared to ours, but this is awful.”[/color] He’d say aloud. He was already half-annoyed by just being in this place, but this food was apparently the last straw. As a proud member of the Nation of Taste, this food insulted him. It was perhaps one of the few instances the others would see him become both visibly irritated and impassioned. [color=aec957] “You there,”[/color]  he said looking at the servant, [color=aec957] “Show me where the kitchen is; I want to tell the chef what I’m going to tell you. This food wastes and dishonors the ingredients. Not just the animals who took time to rear and whose lives were sacrificed, but also the vegetables that took months to tend and grow. Now show me the kitchen or I’ll find it myself. Either way, I’m going to make a replacement dinner to cover up for this travesty, and maybe your chef might learn a thing or five.”[/color]

Having said that he’d pick up the bowl of mashed potatoes. [color=aec957] “And I’ll be taking this. I doubt anything else in this banquet could be saved. When I return at least the potatoes will be worth eating.”[/color] Servant be damned, this dinner was trash, and he was already set to do better. The first order would be to touch up the potatoes, and then figure out what the hell to throw together for a quick enough dinner.