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There was nothing like the sweet incentive of food. Bas wasn't a particular fan of spicy food, however, but that wasn't going to stop him from acting on the chance to wni free food for a month. His mother was a moderate cook, but all the food he ever ate was low quality. They just didn't have the money to spend on fine meat or even spices. It would be nice to be able to treat himself, and remind his body what fine food actually tasted like. Now... all he had to do was actually win this game.

It was a game he was walking into practically blind. He was never very good at figuring out spices. "Okay, I'll bite. Is this stuff going to murder my taste buds?" Maybe he should have eaten before coming here... he didn't want the taste of the pies he was earning off of Elliot to be ruined. One look at the lady offering the game confirmed that his taste buds would probably not survive the encounter. But, damn, he wanted free meals for a month!

Even the woman's daughter, or at least he assumed that the two were related in such a way, was warning him of the dangers. "Fantastic," he told the girl with a sigh. But, Bas had already made up his mind (perhaps stupidly so). He would just tolerate having his taste buds screwed to hell for a couple of hours, and hey, if he was lucky, he wouldn't even have to worry about the spiciness! He just had to pick the right plate. Bas wasn't incredibly lucky, but he liked to think that if he had even the chance of winning, he could do so.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll give it a try," Bas told Kamla, suddenly not sounding too convinced of his plan. The free food, however, was beckoning to him. He simply had to do it. "Do I get any medical benefits if this stuff seriously wrecks me?" he asked the older woman, partially joking, partially not.

"Wait, are you implying I can die from this? What kind of hell concoction have you made?" But, Bas had already consented to the game. He didn't want to seem like even more of a coward by backing out now. At least he was now convinced he definitely would not be giving this game a second chance. In fact, if he failed Bas was confident in the fact that his mouth wouldn't recover in time to play the game a second time.

"I hope you have something to drink handy..." he mused as the plates were set down in front of him. He sniffed testily at them, not quite sure how to even tell which one was a winner. In the end, he went for the method of acting on blind faith...

and his instinct ******** sucked. "<******** class="quote">

NaomiNaomi

Bas didn't say anything until he had chugged down the first glass offered to him, and shoved the cup back at the girl for a refill. His taste buds were still on fire, and he felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "There is no possible way you can warn people about the severity of this game, holy <********>." Bas was a big boy, and he was upset, so cursing came rather bountifully.

"More, please," he gasped finally, just in case the girl didn't get the hint that he still felt like he was dying. Man, and here he thought his death was going to be a bit more peaceful.

Preacher stared at the booth. Preacher stared hard. It smelled of odd spices, a thick cloying scent that was, for lack of a better word, delicious! A timid girl manned the booth; her manners reminded Preacher of a mouse. She didn't really seem inclined to speak much, and that was fine with Preacher. Sighing, she read the sign one more time. How disappointing. The lure of free food was a beautiful thing, but there was no way in seven hells that Preacher would ever have enough coinage to pay for six meals if she failed.

"Hmm," she said, and propped one hip against the booth. "Don't suppose there's a way ta get outta payin' for all the meals iffin I lose?" Slowly, she scanned the booth, noting the location of the money box, as well as various blind spots in the booth. Not for the first time today, Preacher wished someone had opened an alcohol booth.

Just as Bas's glass was drained, so was it filled to the very top for him to drink again. Glancing to the amount inside the jug, the girl reasoned she'd probably have to fill it again. More people may come by.

The girl's eyes formed into thin slits as she slid her eyes to her mother. "Yea," she agreed to Alec. "S-She says she puts the regular amount, but its... it's obvious she's lying. I know she puts more. A lot more. I-I think s-she likes to see people with burning mouths... It's c-creepy..."

Shakuntala's umbra eyes darted up to the sound of an unfamiliar voice and drew back to the whites in surprise. Had the person always been standing there? She wasn't aware until now. Bowing her head, she replied, "I-I don't think so? M-Mum'll get mad at me if I let anyone... play the game for free... Or just make me work harder if I do." Either way, it meant getting chewed out by the woman, and the teen wasn't looking forward to that.

The touch upon her cheek was completely unexpected. She stiffened like a deer sensing danger. "I-I... Um... T-Th-" Shakuntala couldn't even manage a polite remark in gratitude for Preacher's concern. Such a forward display of affection nerved her to the point a blush reddened the very tips of her ears. She couldn't even find the strength to step back (which her mind was blaring in warning for her to do) for fear of her mother, who's eyes were pinpointed on the two, would scold her. That's because Preacher's actions was something the woman loved to see. It meant only one thing to the parent: possible marriage candidate. That's all her mum was obsessed with -- marrying her off.

The trembling of the jug between her hands stilled at the touch of her mother's hand to her shoulder. One glance up to her filled her vision with an expression of complete mirth. Oh no... she sighed mentally. Mum... Mum will-

"Shakuntala, dear, who's this? Someone you know?"

The girl shook her head violently. "I, uh, no- H-He w-wanted... Game..."

"Oh, he wanted to play? Then why aren't you getting him some plates?"

"But... Hadn't pai-"

"Quit dawdling, m'dear. Get him plates."

Shakuntala did as she was told, but not without a reluctant gulp. Her mother's words were final. The six plates of food were placed before Preacher without another word.

Preacher gave the man with goggles a bemused look as he hightailed it into the crowd. Looking back at Shakuntala, she couldn't believe that had worked! The mother had inadvertently helped Preacher's cause by being a busybody. It was alright, though. Nothing could come of the brief flirtation except a free plate of food. Preacher chuckled and tucked her hair more firmly into her hat just as the girl set plates down in front of her.

"M'thanks, Shakuntala." And Preacher winked. Might as well play it up, she figured. The plates steamed vigorously, puffing out a spicy scent into the festival air. Each plate was identical - even the sauce color was the exact same shade! Closing her eyes, Preacher grabbed a spoon and simply chose one at random. Lifting the spoonful to her lips, she sniffed it delicately, then opened her mouth.

Smooth, rich, spicy. It was like nothing Preacher had ever tasted and a small moan of happiness snuck out of her. She had gotten the normally seasoned plate, thank goodness. It was heaven.