"I gotta hand it to you, doc, I didn't think you knew how to cook!"

I smiled and glanced over at the kitchen, where Morro sat on the table scarfing down what little remained of the previously mile-high stack of pancakes.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to speak with your mouth full?" Garmadon reprimanded, half reading a book and half paying attention to the conversation. I shook my head and laughed while looking through one of the bookshelves for Heavy Metal: How To Lighten Up Your Flying Machine.

"Let him compliment me. Although, Morro, I can't say I deserve the praise; it was Garmadon who taught me how to make those pancakes you're so enjoying."

Morro paused for a moment, then shrugged and said, "Okay, so Garma-dull can cook, but you still made these. Although your taste in syrup could be improved…"

Sensing an argument over the rude nickname coming on, I quickly turned around from my search and changed the subject. "Say, would either of you like to play a game? I've been thinking I ought to sharpen up my competitive skills if I'm going to get used to having company."

Morro finished his last pancake and hopped off the kitchen table eagerly. "Sure! If it's a rematch in Cheat that you're after—"

"I'm not playing that again," Garmadon interrupted abruptly. "Not if you brought me back to life and gave me my extra set of arms back."

"You did have a rather unfair aptitude for the game," I conceded, deciding to side with my partner in old age on the particular subject.

"Awww…" Morro pouted. "Well, fine. What about War?"

"That's just pure luck. Card games are no fun if they don't involve skill," Garmadon argued. "Why not something like Expensive Cell?"

"I thought the point of this was to find a game we could play together," I said, frowning. "Expensive Cell is a one-player game."

"Sanjay's got a point," Morro said. It still took me aback a bit whenever he used my first name— especially if he used it without a nickname. "What about Kiss Mummy?"

"That hardly sounds appropriate," Garmadon chastised.

"No, it's not—" Morro started, then sighed. "Never mind, it's not worth it to have to teach you all the rules if you don't already know how to play."

"Well, we seem to be at a loss for something we all agree on," I sighed.

"Do you have any non-card games?" Garmadon asked. "You know, board games or something?"

I shook my head. "Unfortunately not… Since I never expected company before you two, I never had a reason to buy anything that couldn't be played by myself."

"Ah…" the sensei replied, shaking his head. "Well, perhaps we'll just have to fix that."

Morro perked up. "Are we going shopping?"

I smiled. "I think that's a lovely idea. Have you two even been to Cash Street yet?"

"Oh, I used to go there all the time to window-shop!" the teenager exclaimed. "It was my favorite place to hang out after the first time I died."

"What, did you plan your revenge schemes there?" Garmadon scoffed. "Also, I thought cash didn't exist here. Everything is purchased with credit, right?"

"That it is," I confirmed. "However, I believe 'cash' is supposed to be taken as a verb. As in, 'I'm going to go cash in my credit for some cinnamon cookies.'"

"Aw, that was mean… Now I want cinnamon cookies," Morro moaned.

"Well, you'll have to wait a little longer. Dotted isn't until the day after tomorrow, and I'm not buying anything until the day before," I chuckled. Morro flipped back his hair in annoyance, but didn't say anything.

"I suppose it's settled, then," Garmadon said, getting up from the couch where he had been reading. "Shall we head down to this 'Cash Street'?"

"Let me just grab a few things first," I said, abandoning my quest for the book and deciding to instead look for my blueprints. "I want to have something to work on in case we decide to go out to lunch while we're shopping."

"Is food the only thing ever on your mind?" Garmadon asked semi-teasingly, but Morro was already at the front door, bouncing in excitement.

"Food is what makes the afterlife worth living, Grandpa-don, don't bash it! Now hurry up and find whatever it is you're looking for so we can get going!" The green streak in his hair bobbed up and down with him while he waited impatiently.

"Well, if you've seen my blueprints anywhere—" I started, but then I noticed a blue folder on the coffee table near the couch. "Oh, never mind, here they are." I picked up the work and placed it into a large pocket in my lab coat, which was designed for the exact purpose of keeping my work close to my person at all times. I'd perhaps been a bit paranoid during my life.

"Let's head out, then," Garmadon said as we walked to the front door (which Morro had already opened and was currently outside).

"To Cash Street!" the teen exclaimed, lifting himself on a gust of wind so as to address us from the higher ground— er, air.

I smiled and nudged Garmadon, attempting to get him to join in the festive mood. "To Cash Street!"

"Ah… right. Onward," he said, closing the door behind us. I paused. Morro and I exchanged a glance that said 'well, it's a start,' and then headed out to the sounds of the rest of the Departed Realm starting to awake.

(A/N: Brain: You should write another chapter for your fanfic

Me: Nahhhh

Brain: But listen… reviews

Me: …

Me: …

Me: … hold my beer)

(Also GUESS WHO FINALLY LEARNED HOW TO MAKE PROPER HORIZONTAL LINES BUT WILL PROBABLY CONTINUALLY FORGET AND JUST USE EM DASHES ABOVE THE AUTHOR'S NOTES?!)