Honey, dinner is ready. It's a special recipe. Shrimp au champagne.
Damn it, Mauricio. Holy shit, Mauricio! Fuck you!
What is this? Why are you being rude, Luisa? For God's sake-- Are you serious?
You get stuck in that kitchen to prepare these non-recipes, and look at the chaos you leave behind! I know we agreed that you cook and I clean, but it's always this shit! Luisa, that's a sophisticated dish, I need to use many utensils-- There's a dirty chainsaw, Mauricio.
I used it to remove the rosewood sliver that-- Rosewood is a tree so I'm not eating a fucking tree! What about the pogo ball? Why the fuck is there a pogo ball in my kitchen?
Why? ! Why do you think?
How could I mix saffron with lemon? The pogo ball bouncing, mashing the saffron, provides the exact fusion for this dish. You know that when I want to do something, I do it right.
But I wash the dishes afterwards, babe. . .
I'd eat that shit in four seconds, find it mediocre and would wash the dishes in five hours. Remember the last time you made a brigadeiro? You listened to an entire crime podcast.
Eight episodes, 100 people killed because of a brigadeiro. It's funny that when you cook, I don't complain about doing the dishes. Because I think about you.
I make pasta with meat using a regular pan, a frying pan, and a spoon. I'm the MacGyver of cuisine to keep things easy for you. This is what I deserve after working so hard to prepare dinner for two?
For three. Me, you, and a guy I've never seen in my life, with a violin. The violin balances the flavor.
I've heard that a well played Ravel concerto is what this dish needs to harmonize the textures-- Should I wash this man too? When someone plays the violin, they move, sweat a bit. .
. Could you, at least, taste the shrimp before you tell me off? I'm allergic to shrimp.
We've been together for three years and you've never noticed. Holy shit. .
. But I'm considering eating it. I'm considering.
. . .
. . because dying.
. . .
. . sounds better than washing those dishes!
Delivery? Tinder. Babe!
Let's have dinner. I'm hungry. .
. I brought cookies. Strawberry?
Only the best for you. You're perfect. Don't say that.
. .
