[So no, no black out. His eyes are dilated to hell and back, but he's sorta cognitively aware? No drunker than Baren has ever seen him.
But anyway, back to the mess of ingredients that stare accusingly from the counter. Arms folded, Sanji studies them with uncertainty, like an American trying to read Sanskrit for the first time.]
.. Oh, right. [Snapping his fingers in triumph] Oven. Gotta... gotta set that shit at something.
no subject
[So no, no black out. His eyes are dilated to hell and back, but he's sorta cognitively aware? No drunker than Baren has ever seen him.
But anyway, back to the mess of ingredients that stare accusingly from the counter. Arms folded, Sanji studies them with uncertainty, like an American trying to read Sanskrit for the first time.]
.. Oh, right. [Snapping his fingers in triumph] Oven. Gotta... gotta set that shit at something.
[... 500F is a fine temperature for a cake.]