Good evening friends.

Last time, we left Mr. Gavin very precariously with the choice of which butter spread to use for his sandwich.

Now, some people went strait in with the filling and worried for niceties later on. Kristoph Gavin was not so careless. There was time enough for filling and green matter later on, but the first stages were the most important. A man needed patience, and Kristoph Gavin had a lot of patience to spare; he could wait years for a carefully placed seed to bear fruit; he liked to think it was one of his strengths.

That and the painting of an entire hand of nails without smudge or spill in a round minute.

Naturally he made it look like he couldn't care if a person knew of it, taking care of ones self was paramount in his ideals and, naturally, those that knew him were never crass enough to suggest him being 'unmanly'. They would know how much that would hurt his feelings.

Kristoph Gavin's feelings were not something that could be hurt without a little gentle retribution.

A dark expression crossed his most serene of faces and gently I would like to remind all that the large end of an empty juice bottle was the last thing to deal out Kristoph Gavin's particular brand of 'gentle' retribution.

That and minor literature based larceny.

Some people just did not deserve the books they had; he was doing the world a favour. At least he could give a book a valuable place on his most esteemed shelf of collection.

He was quite proud of his library. He'd go so far as to say he'd want to bring it with him everywhere he went if he could.

Just to look at it.

Kristoph Gavin was a pure romanticist at heart really; it made him wonder how such a soft creature such as himself had survived so well over the years.

He picked up a small knife and straitened out the three tubs he had to choose from.
It wasn't so touch a choice as he had first thought. Of course he was quite enjoying himself but some days it was frustrating when you couldn't make you mind up about a thing.
He could choose from a spread made from freshly churned buttermilk, or one made from soy. Their taste was so widely different as to provide an interesting zest to any sandwich.

Kristoph Gavin was weary of treading into the exotic; he didn't want to go overboard about all this, after all.

Leave that sort of silliness to others, less versed in sandwich lore.

He chose a sunflower based butter. It was soft in the world outside of it's usually cold home and his knife plunged into its body so easily as to be a little disappointing.

Kristoph Gavin frowned a little as he shaved off a few layers to spread onto his precisely cut slices of bread.

That was sure to cost his new education system a few levels of efficiency if it was so soft already, and with such little prompting.

Nothing for it now, he could contain that softness only with the hard-nosed, blood red experience of an older generation, one of his favourite jellied fruits.

Cranberries.

Now, here was a fine thing to do, such chaos he could spill onto his sandwich you might only assume would infuriate him, but Kristoph Gavin was made of sterner stuff.

He also only bought the type of jellied cranberries that had been pre squeezed.

Deftly, and with the practice of years of lunchboxes under his belt he carefully scooped out his portion of the delightfully pungent mixture from the pot and levelled it upon the buttered slice before him, spreading the red buds of cranberry with flourish and vigour, turning the veritable chaos of shapes and sticky jelly into a smooth, rounded mass.

Such a strong flavour would keep the youth from disobeying its elders in such odious ways. Kristoph disliked it when he saw children fighting with their parents, when he saw subordinates question their superiors, when the younger generation foolishly thought they knew best?

It infuriated him so much that the grip on the handle of the spoon he held made the knuckles on his hand quite white.

'This will not do' he said to himself, taking a calming breath 'I will certainly have to take a small repose' he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose a fraction. If only to regain his composure.

Kristoph knew it was no good attempting to create a masterpiece when vexed in such a way. There was nothing for it.

The coolest defence lawyer in the west shall be back again to share his knowledge on decent, law abiding sandwich vegetables.

End Book 2

Damn those law breaking sandwich vegetables.
I'll be back soon.