[ Meanwhile, in the kitchen: Nelson's taken a little longer than planned to even find the ingredients he's looking for, weaving around the kitchen a little aimlessly. He had wanted, mostly, to distance himself from any accusations of inebriation (maybe he was a little tipsy, but he just needed some food) and from what he was still sober enough to recognize as a desire for affection that only loneliness, desperation, and/or alcohol brought out in such stark degrees. In the kitchen, apart from them, even he could be somewhat embarrassed by some of his own behavior.
Though that doesn't keep him from muttering to himself as he finally begins to cook, turning the stove on and searching for some chicken or fish or even beef he could cook up quickly. A peptalk, of sorts. ]
It's all right. Slowly, now. This is simple, you've done it a thousand times...
And when you go back out there remember to keep your hands to yourse--
[ He drops a bottle of olive oil, which lands with a crash. ]
Oh damn.[ And he says more loudly, for Maskin and Bradbury's benefit: ] Everything's great! Don't worry about a thing. It should be just ten minutes more.
no subject
Though that doesn't keep him from muttering to himself as he finally begins to cook, turning the stove on and searching for some chicken or fish or even beef he could cook up quickly. A peptalk, of sorts. ]
It's all right. Slowly, now. This is simple, you've done it a thousand times...
And when you go back out there remember to keep your hands to yourse--
[ He drops a bottle of olive oil, which lands with a crash. ]
Oh damn. [ And he says more loudly, for Maskin and Bradbury's benefit: ] Everything's great! Don't worry about a thing. It should be just ten minutes more.