As it turns out, all the time powers in the world don't do shit for one's internal clock, and Dave's was fucked up even before spending three years in a lightless spacelike void. So yeah, he is up and about past bedtime, poking his head into the kitchen to see what can be snagged.
He expects the kitchen staff. This isn't the first night he's slipped in and he knows by now that they don't give a shit. The two girls getting their Martha Stewart on are a surprise, though.
"Wow," is all he says to announce his presence. For a guy who never shuts up, he moves hella quietly. There's just suddenly a Dave there, arching an eyebrow at their much more ambitious take on late night snacking. "Someone was feeling productive, huh? Just woke up at 1AM with a burning desire for some culinary girltime?"
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He expects the kitchen staff. This isn't the first night he's slipped in and he knows by now that they don't give a shit. The two girls getting their Martha Stewart on are a surprise, though.
"Wow," is all he says to announce his presence. For a guy who never shuts up, he moves hella quietly. There's just suddenly a Dave there, arching an eyebrow at their much more ambitious take on late night snacking. "Someone was feeling productive, huh? Just woke up at 1AM with a burning desire for some culinary girltime?"