tushanshu | ✦ 008 ✦ [VIDEO]

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✦ 008 ✦ [VIDEO]

[It takes several on-camera seconds before Zatanna can finally figure out the right words for this; her mouth opens and closes twice before she gives up and just comes out with it:]

...is anybody else slightly concerned about the fact that some of the local bakeries've started selling cookies in the shapes of these thi--?

[And the Network is suddenly treated to a GIANT UPSIDE-DOWN TRIBBLE FACE taking up the entire camera. Because it wanted to say hello, of course.]

[Zatanna can barely get out the shriek of surprise in the background before her unexpected visitor suddenly tumbles downward, taking the feed with it. The screen goes dark, leaving one last audio cry before it cuts out completely:]

Get back here, you cheap horror film knockoff!

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[Tim turns to look at Bart, giving him an utterly bewildered look--what are you doing?--before glancing back at Zatanna.]

None taken. ...As I think we covered, and I'm not sure we really want to retread that brain-breaking conversation.

[Bart slaps his palm to his forehead because he's apparently working with someone even less subtle than he is and can only smile sheepishly when Tim turns around. Nothing to see but us chickens.]

Nope. I'm good without retreading parts of it. Ever again. Can't blame me for trying.

[He gives a little half shrug.] it's for the greater good.

Edited 2013-08-06 01:57 (UTC)

[She can be subtle when she wants to be. She just doesn't usually want to be.]

What 'Greater Good'?

[Tim just shrugs.]

I think it's Bart-speak for "mess with Tim as often as possible?"

[Bart only laughs.]

Sure. Let's go with that. I don't wanna get kicked out. Is anyone else hungry?

Starving.

You cook?

Me too. [He knows Bart can cook passably well, and they had managed pizza and cake without setting the apartment on fire.]

What did you have in mind? And do you want help?

[Not setting the building on fire is the benchmark of success. It just barely eeks past the food being edible, in the end.]

I'm open to suggestions, and yeah. Help'd be good. You want to stay for dinner, Zee?

[There are no words in the English language--either the real one, or (her) Robin's version--that can adequately express just how proud she is of the both of you for not burning an apartment to the ground.]

Pasta works for me.

Actually...remind me some time to bring you this new recipe I've been meaning to try. Some sort of local kedan cuisine. It's supposed to taste a lot like our Italian food. Like, New York Italian, even.

Yeah?

[Tim starts moving toward the kitchen. Pasta, they can handle. Pasta is easy.]

That sounds like it would definitely be worth a try.

Carbs. Awesome. My favorite food group.

[Bart follows to the kitchen and starts rummaging around.]

Why is New York Italian so important? I mean, if we're talking about authenticity, shouldn't it be Italian Italian that we're aiming for? And then why not just Italian?

Because shut up. And pass me a wooden spoon.

[Don't ask so many question, Bart. Just go with it.]

['Because shut up.' There is no way Tim can keep from laughing at that, and he doesn't even try. He just offers her the requested spoon, trying to compose himself again.]

[Bart is seized with the mental image of dropping the pot he is holding over Tim's head, grabbing the spoon and banging on the pot. But he dismisses it easily as overkill and smiles. It just feels good to hear Tim let loose and laugh, instead of quietly smirking. He'll take it at his own expense.]

Fine. I'll shut up. But I know that you know that I know I'm right.

[She accepts the spoon from Tim with a grateful smile and more than a little amusement at his reaction to her latest response to Bart's Bart-ness.]

You think you're right.

There's not much point in arguing with him. [Tim's amusement is still in his voice.] He can probably outlast you.

[Bart snickers at this, because it's such a blatant lie. There are things that he cares so strongly about that he will go toe-to-toe with anyone forever if he has to, but New York Italian vs. Italian Italian isn't on the list or anywhere remotely near the list. He knows that he'll lose interest. But not quite yet.]

I know I'm right. Why do you think I'm the one who always picks up the takeout? When we order Mexican food, it's not from Chipotle, and the fried chicken isn't from KFC. If I'm grabbing Italian, New York is just the pit stop before crossing the Atlantic.

[Tim was right, of course, because she's already moved on from the subject. To much more important matters.]

Hey, Tim, where do you keep the big pots?

[Bart shakes the pot that he's been holding for the past two minutes at her.]

It's like I'm not even here, and I'm supposed to think there's nothing going on here?!

[She spares just enough of a glance at the pot in his hand to prove that, yes, she did remember he was still in the room.]

I mean the big pots.

I've seen how Wally eats. No way that's going to be big enough if Tim and I expect to have any.

[Tim snickers and goes to find a bigger pot.]

I might be able to find something. I think I keep the cafeteria-size pots in the back.

This is like a six quart pot! I do not eat that much. Not really. OK. I can finish a whole pound of pasta and not blink. But I'm good with this being a snack.

[Waiting...waiting...]

[There it is.]

Thanks, Tim. [And then, back to Bart.] Fine. We can use that one for the sauce, since it means so much to you, and Tim's for the pasta. Go put it on the stove.

[Tim straightens and outs his pot on the stove, giving Zatanna a little--only slightly mocking--salute.]

Yes, ma'am.

[Bart puts the smaller pot on the stove with a satisfying little thunk.]

For the record, I was gonna make sure you two got your share before I took mine. I'm not a complete jerk.

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