Yesterday evening I was mentoring Jake in table manners (what? I’m a classy gentledino!) when this happened:
Jake: This is stupid.
Jake: You teaching me table manners when we have no table and no actual food. What kind of mentor are you?
Rex: Um, the best mentor in the world.
Jake: [sigh] Fine. Tell me again about how to properly eat carcass without this rude “snarfing” you speak of.
Rex: As the best mentor in the world, I’ll do better than tell you. I will show you. Follow me.
Jake: Where are we going?! Are we going to steal the Stanley Cup finally?! I brought my camera and everything!
Rex: No, and shut up about that. I told you I [wink] have no intention [wink] of stealing [wink wink] the Stanley Cup! We’re going upstairs to the culinary department here at AIP.
Jake: Wait. There’s a culinary department here?! I thought this was an art school.
Rex: As the greatest mentor in the world, allow me to inform you that cooking is an art form. Let’s go.
That’s how it all started.
Here’s a picture Jake took of me sneaking into the culinary department.
What I don’t have pictures of are Jake and I snarfing down every morsel of food in the culinary department, of the faces of the staff when they saw we had snarfed every morsel of food in the culinary department, of the face of Norm when he was told by the staff that we snarfed every morsel of food in the culinary department, or of Norm giving me a finger-wagging “You are in Big Trouble, mister!” lecture before tranqing my classy dino butt.
And I certainly don’t have a picture of the blueprints of Mario Lemieux’s house showing ways to access the room in which Sidney keeps the Stanley Cup. I don’t have that AT ALL.