Ow... ow... oh come on, Blaise. The more you sink your little claws into me, the longer it's going to take to make all this.

[Eventually, he succeeds in preparing the meal. It's not as pretty as it might be if Derek had made it, and maybe it's not quite as delicious as Derek would have made it. But it's been cooked, and chopped, and mashed, and molded into a shape that Blaise might just recognize.]

There. Are you happy?