My friend wrote this. it's basically just JAMMY fluff! JAMMY THOUGH!!
I was just sent out on a mission. I need to buy eggs, milk, and cheese from the grocery store in less than twenty minutes, or I would get no dinner. At least, that was what Pam said. If I came back in more than twenty minutes she'd just make fun of me, but would never deprive me of her wonderful cooking.
That was sarcasm, my friends. Pam can't make cereal to save her life.
I unlocked the door to Pam's apartment – with my very own key, thank you very much –and entered to find the fire alarm beeping like crazy and the entire place smelling of ... of something unpleasant. Whatever it was, it filled burned my eyes and made it hard to breathe. I started to cough, shielding my eyes and walking towards the kitchen.
"Pam?" I choked out. It was hard to talk, too. When I didn't hear her say anythign, I raised my voice. "PAM?"
I heard a bit of dainty coughing coming from the general kitchen area, so I dropped the groceries and made my way further inside. When I got to the kitchen, I found Pam, and the entire kitchen – especially the stove – surrounded by smoke. She was fanning the fire alarm with paper towels, trying to get it to stop beeping. If she wasn't risking her health by staying near the smoke I would have laughed. I walked over to her quickly and pressed the buttons to turn it off, barely having to stretch my arm to reach the ceiling. I turned on the faucet and opened up the kitchen window as well, trying to air the room out. After doing that, I looked back at Pam. She had a rather sheepish look on her face.
"Pam, what did you do?" I asked after the room aired out. "I leave you alone for ten minutes-"
"It was the black beans," she mumbled, plopping down on the floor and crossing her arms over her chest. The put did me in. I craked up.
"Black beans? Really?" I chuckled playfully. "I expected more from you, Beesly."
She giggled, closing her eyes. "I was making tacos. You said you liked tacos…"
"I love tacos," I agreed. Alright. It was teasing time. "And, I mean, yeah, there's a little bit of smoke… but they can't be burned that bad, right?"
She glared at me, but I saw the laughter she was holding back. "The bottom of the metal pan cracked."
My eyebrows shot up. "Oh." I laughed at her scowl, and sat on the floor next to her, kissing her head gently. "Well, there's always takeout," I said with a wink.