exsilium | ( TEXT )

Greetings, Exsilium. I am Miles Edgeworth and I have an announcement to make. In preparation for Thanksgiving, a silly American holiday where people gorge on turkey and celebrate historical inaccuracies by painting bald eagles with gravy, I have attempted to cook a simple but delicious mashed potatoes dish.

I have failed. It has been less than two hours since I stepped into the kitchen and I have already managed to soil my cravat, stain my vest and slightly singe my sleeves. It will take a lot of effort to rid the delicate embroideries on my vest with the potato bits that have gotten between the threads. It would take more effort to get rid of the stench of curdled milk, failure and shame that now permeates every corner of this kitchen.

I must now admit that I am not only a failure in the kitchen but also a failure as a man. I am a foolish fool who can not foolishly comprehend recipes so simple even a fool of the utmost foolishness can foolishly cook. I submit myself to your mockery, Exsilium. I deserve to be punished for my incompetence.

That is all.

[ Note: ~~Franziska von Karma was here. Miles Edgeworth smells.~~

Franziska has hi-jacked her brother's communicator. She wrote this entire post. Expect tags from Franziska pretending to be Edgeworth, Edgeworth, and Franziska... probably. ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ THAT'S SO HORRIFYING. ]

Is it... is it still edible? [ No, that's not a crack in her voice. ]

Only if you want it to be the last meal you will ever eat.

Edited 2012-11-21 14:24 (UTC)

[Oh... kay. This guy hadn't seemed so bad when she first talked to him.

So... [a rather drawn out 'so'] you're a masochist then. Got it.

lol

That's why you wear aprons and keep your cravat off, Edgeworth.

You have got to be joking about a holiday like that.

[Taking into account the amount of times this guy used 'foolish' somehow in one sentence, Caesar's pretty sure this isn't a serious post, so his dismay is focused on the fact that there's a holiday coming up.

Holidays are terrible things.]

[ Perhaps the mashed potatoes aren't salvageable after all, but after a short while, Edgeworth's cleaned the spilt portion and put the attempted cooking aside for the moment, opting instead to change into a fresh shirt. Upon returning from his room, he glimpses Franziska sitting on the couch, tapping away at her tablet.

He makes his way over. ]

Anything interesting happening?

[ As he asks he scans the room for his own device, ready to put thoughts of failed Thanksgiving foods out of mind. ]

Sounds foolishly foolish since who would actually cook in a suit but either way you guys don't be late!

And if you end up painting any gravy eagles, Indiana, make sure to show me! That's something I've got to see.

[ This comes about half an hour after the initial broadcast; Edgeworth is wearing a clean shirt, a new cravat and a scowl. ]

The situation isn't as dire as she made it out to be. [ Which is to say he hasn't entirely decided what to do with them yet. ] That being said, it was actually Franziska von Karma who wrote that message, not I.

( ... )

This is not the social networking site you're looking for. I believe Facebook has been left behind someone in the 21st Century.

[ Some half an hour later: ]

I most certainly am not.

[ Et tu, Wright? This reply comes about half an hour later: ]

My vest was unruined; there is no issue here.

[ But an apron... there's an idea. ]

You're sure? Wanting a little mockery and punishment from others... well.

[ Half an hour later, after Franziska's returned his communicator: ]

It is not the holiday that is a joke, but rather this broadcast.

[ SOME HALF AN HOUR LATER: ]

For the record, I was not actually cooking in my suit.

[ time delay etc. ]

I would never share such drivel on social networking sites, Ms. Fey. Indeed, I have no interest in them whatsoever.

I will state for the record that I do not desire any of these things. My... sister thought to type out that prior message while my tablet was left unattended.

Ah, there's the real Edgeworth! I thought you talked too much to the real you -- that text just lacked that... edge to it that I recognize.

[Is he joking? Who the hell knows. But the moment he saw "fool" -- scratch that the moment the post talked about Edgeworth's embarrassments so openly, he know who it actually must be.]

Do people honestly think that I would post such blatant self-flagellation on a public network?

And just what was the point of this, 'Miles Edgeworth'?

[ he... doesn't think this is him. at all. ]

[She can't help the laugh.]

Yeah, this sounds like something I would have done to one of my brothers when I was a younger.

[ AT LEAST SOMEONE NOTICES... this reply comes about half an hour later ]

The point is that Franziska thought this would be a particularly funny prank. [ A beat. ] Which it most certainly was not.

If they don't know you that well, I guess they will?

How's Miss Franziska?

[ He scowls. ]

It's not funny.

Wonderful. I've given her a stern talking-to.

Which part isn't, exploding potatoes or your sister using your device to turn you into a masochist by proxy?

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