Flame tapped the face of his watch. 8:27 it read in a dull monotone voice. He grawled along with his stomach. "Gotta fix that." He opened his door and headed toward the kitchen, running his hand along the wall for balance and to feel if anyone was coming.<br/>"Hey!" He shouted through the house. "Who wants food? I'll make dinner!" After a moments thought, he went to the freezer and felt through the packages in there for the chicken breasts. Finding then, he placed them in the microwave on defrost and searched around for the bag of pasta he'd left on the counter for the express perpose of dinner.<br/>"William! Where'd my pasta go?!" He was outraged. He'd written 'for dinner' right on the bag! "Can't you read?" He muttered, stomping to the living room type room.