crunchy or smooth?

[Roger Alexander Radcliffe]

Most of the time, Roger Radcliffe rather enjoyed his job. He could never find much to complain about it. He got to work from home and set his own hours. When he was done with a project he was done and he had the rest of the time to himself. Sometimes would be bitten by the procrastination bug, but for the most part, he was pretty much on top of his stuff. His father had taught him to stay on top of everything. He had been screwed other times when he had let things get out of hand and he was sure that this next assignment was going to be one of those things that was going to snowball out of control. He still had one week in order to come up with something that was total and complete crap so that he could get paid and not have the previous two weeks be a waste of his time. This was a very important job as ridiculous as that sounded since it was a jingle about peanut butter but this job was going to pay him very handsomely, and if they liked what he did the company left hints that they would call on him again to do other work.

To get out of the house but hopefully not get incredibly distracted, Roger went to the store. He was out of a few things. The one thing that he was out of that he was constantly being reminded of was dog treats. Pongo, the wiley dog, was not letting him forget about that either. Roger was a bad wonder not going out to get him more treats but then again he hadn't a need to leave. He really needed to get this jingle done because he wanted time to play with it to hear it over and over again and to test it on family members so that he could get it just right. However, he was all out of frozen TV dinners and he was going to need to find something to eat and he wasn't that much of a cook. If it couldn't be cooked in a microwave or had more than three ingredients in it, chances were that Roger wouldn't know how to make it and that if he attempted to make it he was going to end up burning down the house. Not in the mood to go house hunting, He had to find some thing that he wanted to eat at the store that would keep his fridge for quite some time and he was going to need dog treats if he was ever going to get some peace.

Roger was the type of guy to go into a grocery store and not know where a damn thing was. He had lived in Walten all his life and been in the store hundreds of times but he was still clueless as to where things were so he normally ended up walking up and down the isles aimlessly looking for what he needed and getting things that he definitely did not need. He simply wanted to get in and get out but even taking one of those little papers that told you what was where you couldn't find things that you wanted because he swore that the paper left of things that were important. Roger had ended up in the aisle that had stocked peanut butter and suddenly an idea jumped in his head. Why not but several different brands to see what was so great about the brand that he was supposed to be creating a jingle for. This way he would know what was so different about it. Roger began to grab one of each different brand. Crunchy, smooth, organic, it didn't matter the kind, he needed to get one of everything. "People are gonna think that I'm nuts," He muttered to himself.

tagged: open status: done notes: i hate starters for new muses

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[jasmine]

Life is defined by awkward moments.

The best thing about being a legal adult was the ability to go out whenever she pleased. Jasmine offered to do the grocery shopping that morning, mainly because the maids were busy with other things. Usually they objected to her going out and doing things like this, but no one bothered to stop her this morning. Her father went to work early, so no one really had to ask his permission. She loved that. She loved the feeling of the fresh air on her skin, the feeling of freedom. Not that going to the grocery store was the ultimate desire of those in captivity, but still. It was the most normalcy Jasmine had ever faced. She was used to having people do everything for her, and it wasn’t like she asked for it. She was born into that life, in a sense. Her father’s money came into play when she was around five years old, so she couldn’t really remember a time when they were without maids, an eight bedroom house, and a pool. It was just… there for her. She learned early that life wasn’t much without people to share it with. And sure, she had her father. She had the “help,” and most of those maids took her in and treated her the way they would treat their own daughters. But still… it wasn’t the same. Jasmine was a lot of things, but she was not a charity case.

And while a grocery store wasn’t the object of desire of those in captivity, Jasmine found herself wandering down each and every aisle of the store, checking prices and checking out new foods like a maniac. People must have thought she was insane, but no one showed it. They just went along with their business. That was another thing to love about modern society. Unless you were in middle or high school, people didn’t bother to point out differences or oddities. They just went along their merry ways.

She was completely unaware of what the maids wanted. They didn’t give her a shopping list, so she was basically winging her expedition. She stuffed junk food and things she liked into the cart, and stuff she usually saw around the house. She didn’t bother with the healthy junk, even though the maids probably wanted just that.

From one aisle, to the next. Jasmine had almost covered the entire store, and she could see why most people hated grocery shopping. Fighting through crowds of people, some arguing over the pack of miniature Oreos that they wanted. It was almost barbaric, but it was funny. She was in a different aisle now, with packages of bread, jars of jelly and peanut butter. Near the end of the walkway was a man, sticking jars of peanut butter into his cart. Her head cocked at him; she’d never seen anyone who liked peanut butter that much. She pushed her cart forward and kept going, until hers was next to his, only on the other side. Talking to people first wasn’t her thing. She never did that. She always waited for someone else to speak to her first. But she was going to make an exception in this case… “You must really like peanut butter,” she muttered, quirking a brow with a smirk at him.

Tagged;; Roger
Words;; 568
Notes;; Shortttt. D:
Outfit;; here

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