Dave hadn't considered it being poisoned. He had always thought if food was cooked, it was good enough. But as he chewed, he started tasting phantom flavours, half imagined herbs and mysterious juices. It might have just been the way it was cooked, the flavourings it had been prepared with. Now his mind was filled with poison though, it all tasted foul to him. "Thanks for that thought." He muttered, licking his lips and walking up to the rattling table.<br/><br/>He looked incredulously at Jack, started to tell him exactly what he could do with that knife, when he paused. He was just being panicky - so far, they had broken into an old guys house, seen a weird book and stolen the old guy's turkey dinner. Didn't mean there was anything really creepy going on. Dave nodded and put the rest of the turkey on the table. He made a show of flexing his fingers, warming up like a pianist. In truth, it helped settle his nerves a bit, gave him time to buy into his own story. He looked at Jack. "Ready?" He asked.<br/><br/>Then he tugged the drawer open.