[They sure are looking snazzy in her dreams. Two punks taking to the softer life. Which, they are attempting in as much as they can, given the state of the world and everyone else in it.

On the other hand, he can't help pondering eating the potential chickens they speak of. How long does it take for them to get old? He's not sure.]

A shopping list... sounds so normal... [It makes him smile.

He steps into the kitchen, but not without giving her and the freezer a raised brow.]

...That bad...?

[He is a corpse, after all. And he's seen lots of other corpses. But, he'll take her word and take a look around the kitchen.

It's seen better days, but most things have. He checks the cupboards, knowing there won't be much for food but finding himself pleased to see there are spices left behind. Garlic powder, onion powder, chilli powder, salt, pepper. He opens another for dry goods and finds lentils. He grins.]

Can of... tomato paste... could make you... vegetarian sloppy joe...

[Hardly high cuisine, but still. He moves on, finding a pan and bringing it to a less-than-tidy stove. He holds it there, closing his eyes, imagining the sizzle and pop, the bustle and chatter just beyond, a faint ding...]