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 Posted: Sun Oct 12, 2014 1:08 am
 Midnight Snack liked to think of himself as a pretty chill dude. He loved his fiancee, he loved his work, he loved his family (both extended and immediate), and generally loved his life. Whether the restaurant was slammed or slow, whether he was in the weeds or ahead of the curve, he tended to keep his cool. But then, well... One day, Midnight overheard a guest. "I heard the chef here is really innovative," he said. "But I had this chilled crackled beets at Mockingbird just the other day! What a bummer. Midnight thought he was going crazy. He'd just invented the recipe two weeks earlier. Maybe he wasn't as inventive as he thought? He pushed it out of his mind. But then, a week later... "Midnight Snack is losing it, unfortunately," sighed another guest. Don't get me wrong -- I think he does the crisp dandelion soup better here, but they told me I could get it at Mockingbird for cheaper. Same with Fruit Punch's Sunrise Delight. I just don't know..." After the second time, Midnight waited (semi) calmly until the restaurant closed, and then he approached his beloved fiancee, his head down, his gaze down at his hooves... which was about where he felt both his stomach and heart was.
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Posted: Fri Oct 17, 2014 2:28 am
Pink Lemonade might have been busy cleaning and drying glassware but that didn’t stop her from noticing Midnight’s brooding preoccupation. She set aside the wine glass she’d been polishing and tucked the tea towel casually around her neck, then left her place behind the bar to meet him. "What’s the matter?" She asked, straight to the point and ready to tackle any of his problems with head on efficiency. After she spoke, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, thankful for the nights hard work.
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Posted: Fri Oct 17, 2014 11:22 am
"Hey, PL..." Midnight said half-heartedly, taking a seat in the nearest barstool. He heaved a sigh. He wasn't terribly good at being neither down-hearted or dramatic, so he figured doing the whole charade would have to stop in favor of just, yanno, letting his fiancee know what was on his mind. "PL, I think I might be all washed up," he said solemnly. "I've been getting the weirdest feedback. Everything I put out -- I hear a coupla weeks later that some other restaurant is doing the same thing for cheaper! I don't understand. How could this happen? I keep thinking I'm doing something awesome -- then, bam! Nope. No awesome. No awesome for me."
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2014 6:59 pm
Pink Lemonade didn't say anything at first. She listened, pursed her lips thoughtfully and then shook her head. She walked around the bar again, mixed them both a drink and slid a glass towards her fiancee. Not for one second did she imagine that Midnight was washed up. There was no possible way anyone could be coming up with something before her darling Mid. Something else must be going on. Only yesterday someone had seen the cocktail of the day, a new and unique creation she'd helped FP design and had said he'd tried it before. There was a connection and she wouldn't rest until the mystery was solved. "Leave it to me sweetie," she said finally. "I'll find out what's going on."
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Posted: Wed Nov 19, 2014 6:10 pm
Watching PL be her usual, effective, business-minded self was always a wonder to behold. Confessing his self-imposed feelings of washed-upped-ness to her immediately made Midnight feel safer and more secure. How could he be washed up with PL in his corner? She was a bona fide genius! Well. Until he thought about it for an extra moment. "Okay," he said, only half-joking as he continued: "But please don't make anyone... mysteriously disappear or anything..."
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Posted: Sat Nov 22, 2014 11:51 pm
Pink Lemonade laughed but there was an odd glint in her eyes. “Oh honey. If somebody has crossed us, I will publicly tear them apart, so everyone can see what comes of those who make that silly mistake.” Then she said not another word about the issue for the rest of the night. In fact, she said nothing more for three next days. Mid might have noticed her occasionally taking off and leaving FP in charge, but she didn't say anything about where she was going or what she was doing. It wasn't until the fourth day, as they were going through the December Christmas party bookings, that she finally mentioned it again. “Mockingbird has been stealing our recipes,” she said, leaning back in her chair with a tight smile. “I haven’t told anyone else yet but I know its happening. I just don’t know how and until I work that out, I can’t ruin them entirely. We must have a mole in the operation.”
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Posted: Sun Dec 28, 2014 2:17 pm
Midnight Snack HAD noticed his lady-love wandering off, going out and about now and again, but he said nothing. He may have checked the walk-in freezers for shivering patrons, and peeked in the dumpster for large, lumpy bags, but by the third day, he abandoned his task and took faith in PL's words. She WOULD make sure that any punishment was public... When the issue finally came up again, Midnight reacted differently than he assumed. He was used to shrugging things off, to laughing, to just... letting things roll off his back. But this time -- at first he was shocked, and then he was angry. All his hard work! All his family's hard work! How dare they... "Mockingbird -- how -- those --" he sputtered, his jaw tensing. "Those freaking jerks!" It was a mild curse, to be sure, but considering his total lack of knowledge about fury...
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