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"Well, then maybe yew should have." Chef replied, releasing him and moving over to the cooler. He kept his gaze on Chris the entire time, and tossed him a water bottle. "Yew better drink that, man. White becomes see-through when wet. Ah don't think yew want a repeat performance of earlier, either."

Chef grumbled before going to stand in front of the door out, crossing his arms and looking rather imposing in front of it. Chris was not going to get pass him! "Huh! As if ah had a choice, man. Ah need the cash that this gig pays me, every cent of it. And yew'd better be careful -- one day, the producers might jus' ask me to introduce Fluffy to a hammer."

He bit back a snicker at Chris' last retort. "Ah'm sure it will," he replied smoothly. "Ah think they faxed the notes as to what else yew gotta do. Considering yer, uh, condition yew won't get makeup to come in 'til after yew change."

Wow! That actually worked! Chef knew there was something more to the chia pet than what it had on its back, but a sentimental value? Man... if that chiapet ever left Chris' sight, then today's dramatic spectacle would have been as harmless as a kid wailing and pawing at their mother's skirts for a piece of candy.

Chef gave the host as much privacy as the walk-in closet could offer, occasionally stepping forward to straighten this, tie that, and then, well... Chef double-checked the faxed memo the producers sent Chris in preparation. "Uh, Chris-man? Um... ah dunno how ta break this to ya, but it needs ta be purple..."

"Uh, Chris-man? Maybe you should take a look at this yo'self..." The chef handed the faxed memo to Chris before pointing at a very specific item, then he hurried away to stand at the door just in case Chris lost his nerve. Honestly, the dress was bad enough -- but they had to go and make THAT demand?

...man. Chef wasn't getting any sleep tonight, was he?

The night came and went with nothing out of the ordinary. This made Chef worried. He had been expecting the host to barge into his kitchen and whine the night away with a platter of vanishing cookies with an equally vanishing glass of milk or booze. The fact that neither of them happened made Chef wonder if the host died of shame in the middle of the night. Who would host the show then? Or would it just shut down and everyone gets shipped home?

Chef really hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

In the early morning hours, Chef ventured into the staff area of Wawanakwa with a plate of cookies he had baked last night, then heated up again to at least look fresh. Without bothering to knock, he let himself into Chris' RV (after picking the lock, heh heh). "Chris-man? Yew here?"

Chef eyed Chris' outfit, suppressing a shudder. That was just down-right cruel of the producers AND campers. Even HE wouldn't wear something that short! It was bad enough that he had to wear see-through pink. Stupid budget, couldn't hire a nice lady to wear it, but there was enough of it to order the outfits in XLL+. Grr.

Since the host didn't appear to be nearby, Chef inched towards his bedroom door and listened. Wait, was that... purring? He moved his platter of warm cookies to his other hand and gently opened the door, staring in disbelief. How the hell did Chris manage to sleep after all that?!

But, a chef's gotta do what a chef's gotta do. The large Audio entered the room and reached out, gently shaking Chris' shoulder. "Chris-maaaan. Chris-man! What the hell! Yew're late for yo camera call!"

Chef felt really guilty. He had never seen the host like this. He was always one of those bright'n'early Audio... probably why the producers selected him to be a host.

He considered the situation. Chris needed all the sleep he could get today, but at the same time... man. Chef reached down and picked Fluffy up, moving him to Chris' night stand where the chia pet could stare at McLean with its beady sculpted eyes. He tried shaking him again. "Nuh-uh! Yew'd better get up or ah'm eatin' these cookies."

"Yes, cookies." Chef waved the plate under the host's nose, hoping to wake him up further. "As to why ah'm here... Lookit the time, man." Chef shrugged, then popped one of the cookies off the plate and into his mouth. "Mmm, 's too bad, man," he crunched, "If yew woke up sooner, then ah wouldn't 've had ta break in. And then ah'd have had more cookies 'ere."

"No gettin' up," Chef mumbled from his mouth full of cookies before swallowing, "Then no cookies fer yew, man. They're freeeesh and yo favorite kind?" He added, moving the plate around again to catch Chris' attention... except he also held it up and out of Chris' reach.

"Ah'll be in the main room, snackin' if yew don't hurry," he said, grinning and leaving the host in his bedroom.

In what could pass as the living room, Chef sat himself down on a chair and eyed the costume. He hoped that with Chris' brekkie of cookies that he wouldn't have to alter the costume's line in any way, shape, or form.