Day 5
It seemed like the end was closing in. She'd gone through the ringer - the rigamarole -- no wait, the rigatonimarole. Hmmyes.
It had been a mixed bag so far, like tricolored rotini. First, they'd stirred too hard and lost a noodle. Then, some luck! Pesto had fallen when the basil wilted under the searing heat. Marinara had marinaran't, rolling back to the pantry to rejoin the sauces in the shadows. And before she knew it, night was upon her - and something else was too. She didn't know the specifics, but it sounded heavy.
Heavy like her heart, knowing how the day would play out. How she faced an impastable climb from a position so shaky, it would dump all the Parm onto the pasta in one fell swoop. Although some people correctly like to eat their cheese with a little bit of pasta underneath, versus a delicate sprinkle atop the sauce. And though she tried, she knew her noodle was done and stuck to the wall.
But as she faced the boiling tempers of the noodles around her, certain that they'd found their last marauder, she shrugged to herself. It wasn't her first loss. She didn't consider this a pho cup - sometimes, your noodle just sticks to something, and in this case, it stuck to the strainer, not making it back into the pot before garnishing.
She looked at the salt shaker, knocked over during the scuffle and the race to push her toward the pantry. Everyone knows the superstition - that spilled salt is bad luck. The legend goes that you throw it over your shoulder to cancel bad luck - the left shoulder, specifically, because that's where the devil sits, and a gentle toss of salt over that shoulder sprinkles the crystals in his eyes, blinding him and preventing his shenanigans.
Well.
She thought more than a gentle toss was warranted here. She was annoyed. Angery, even. And as she headed back toward the pantry, she scooped up a handful of salt and spun, pelting it into the eyes of the ones she wanted to surprise the most. To remind them what they say about assumptions. Their screams comforted her as she stomped back to the pantry. At least she'd reminded them to consider all the options. There was nothing more she could do.
Sent back to the pantry is...
Modkilled is...
7 players remain.
1.)
@Animal Midwife
6.)
@miranda920
8.)
@mightyrunner7
12.)
@SportPonies
13.)
@Wondalfy
15.)
@Viscernable
16.)
@samac
Stumpin' and probably not packing for Vegas:
7.)
@WildZoo
Pasta La Vistaed:
14.)
@Clem J, Gnocchi, vanillager
9.)
@SARdoghandler, Gemelli, vanillager
2.)
@VeggieTrex, Pesto,
impasta
3.)
@chicandtoughness, Penne, village neighbor
5.)
@Dinashadow, Manicotti, vanillager
10.)
@Santygrass, Marinara,
impasta
4.)
@genny, Rigatoni,
village neighbor
11.)
@mkg323, Ziti,
vanillager
It is now Night 5. Night closes tomorrow, 2/18, at 10pm EST/9pm CST/8pm MST/7pm FST and I will not be closing early because I, in fact, will not be midair at close time. Please remember to submit night actions if you have them.