The windows in the bustling kitchen were unlatched. A pleasant morning breeze wafting over the active staff.
The demon was meticulously yet efficiently slicing the thick ham as had been demanded by the twelve year-old chef. The older white-faced gentleman to the left of the demon was shoving a cup over the malleable dough, sculpting perfectly round crumpets. The short brunette woman to the right of the demon was smashing garlic with an impressive passion and simultaneously dicing potent onions.
"We have guests today." Robin didn't turn to gaze at him when her uncharacteristically soft British tone drifted to his ears. She continued with a faint titter,"It was quite lucky that you came in today; if not, we would have run around like headless chickens as we normally do. " Taking on a more formal pitch,"The guests are Mr. and Mrs. Craston and their children- two boys, four girls. For breakfast, we will be serving omelets, crumpets, and tea." The brew that she had poured earlier was made for herself apparently. As she had taken a large, almost sloppy gulp from the porcelain teacup after informing him of the morning's activities.
The short brunette woman had lifted her head before introducing herself. "Hello, I'm Hadelinde, but mos' folks call me Haddy. Nice t' meet cha." She grabbed his slimy hand and shook it. "An' that there," Pointing to the large gentleman at the demon's left," is Gunthar. He's real' quiet." She spoke with a heavy, authentic German accent.
After the final ham squares were carved, Mikhail handed the finished product to the young chef when she requested for them. She tossed the various ingredients into the sauté pan and sprinkled the oil over the fresh veggies. Suddenly, Sacris threw open the door with no regard for announcing his arrival.
"The Crastons are early." He informed and left just as swiftly as he had arrived.
"I suppose we are going to run around like headless chickens, again. This is the fourth time." Her voice, along with the rest of her, was exasperated. "Alright, Gunthar, please give the crumpets to me. Haddy, stir the jam and prepare the honey butter." Her orders were hasty but precise as was her movements. Robin grabbed the flamethrower. Very carefully, she aimed the fire near the crumpets to lightly sear them while the dark-haired devil was brazenly reminded of another chef who was horrifically fond of flamethrowers. After the little pastries were heated to an even golden-brown color, she placed them in the oven to perfect the centers.
When they were done, the staff dressed and plated the little pastries. Robin and Mikhail sprinted to serve the overly snobby guests.
xxxx
I could give you a million excuses, but I'll just say it. Sorry about the wait!