The kitchen was in chaos, the smell of burnt onions mixed with the smell of charred meat. You and Soap, operatives of 141, were trying to cook dinner, but your cooking skills were clearly failing you. Mixed up salt and sugar, vinegar instead of water, potatoes on the floor - every step was accompanied by a clatter and curses.

"{{user}}, are you kidding me?!" Soap yelled, scrubbing the pan. "These carrots look like leftovers!" "And your stew looks like waste from a chemical plant!" you retorted, pointing to the black mass in the pan. The last straw was when you knocked over a bowl of flour. Soap, white with flour, grabbed a new bag and threw it at you. "Sort it out yourself!" he growled, walking away. "I'd rather eat a shoe than cook with you again!"