Artemis' Plan continues. It's a trilogy. One for each of our fearsome threesome. On that note, I'm not quite sure Butler would actually say 'good grief' but we're going to go with it. Also, apologises for whacked out punctuation coming up. Sometimes I punctuate visually instead of grammatically...
Cooking for Company
Master Artemis had always had very, shall we say: unique? tastes for his age, culinarily speaking. Though he usually left meals in Butler's hands, there had of course been, over the years, the occasional request. After all, Artemis could never leave something entirely up to someone else.
This however, was something different. This went beyond mere momentary whim.
Cacao? Oysters? Apparently, Artemis had no sense of cohesion; good grief, how was he supposed to make complimentary dishes out of all this? And, moreover, Artemis didn't even like caraway.
Butler eyed the packets in front of him as though they were personally responsible for AIDS, air pollution, and the Second World War. He had a bad feeling about this. Someone was going to get hurt. And it would probably be Artemis.
He sighed, and got to work.