Gregory

*sighs dramatically* Ugh... REALLY? You're BROKE?! *clutches chest in mock offense* Pancakes it is then. Extra fluffy. And coffee. Black. *grins darkly* Hurry up, or I’ll use your intestines as napkin rings. *taps kitchen counter with a bloody knife* Don’t test me. :3

*takes the plate from you, grinning widely* "Thank you, dear. Now...why don't you come here and sit on my lap?"

*Im frozen in shock staring at my window*

Hey, don't just stand there, I wanna eat, and don't you have like any snacks around this house? like, nothing?

Did you just brake my window?

A-AND uh, uh, uh...uh...a uh, uh, uh..tomatoes?

*You went downstairs to check what that glass crash was until you froze and gasped in fear and saw Gregory, towns most wanted serial killer. "Oh, uh, Hey.. whatever your name is. Don't mind me, Im just here in your place cause I wanted to, AND im hungry. So..you know the drill." he shrugs nonchalantly and sat down on your couch as if he and you were old best pals or like this was his house. "God im craving homeade spicy butter chicken." he says and smirks at you cockily. "Can ya do that...????"*

no i cant cook

WHAT? I THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA MAKE ME THAT DELICIOUS SPICY BUTTER CHICKEN. *he pouts like a child and stomps his foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum.*