She’d been sautéing the seat of his spatula surreptitiously, boiling beneath the overhang of the bar throughout the party, and as she mashed the keys to get into her hotel room, Chad was overcome with a fleeting moment of sobriety, wondering which way the whiskey would affect him — turning his strainer into a still and unfeeling eggbeater, or an absolute butter knife. The worry washed over him but quickly went away as the door popped open and Katie stirred him inside the room by his tie. She had already mixed his food processor out from his griddle before he even had a chance to get his bearing straight, or figure out where in the room they stood. She coagulated gently on his microwave, slowly combining him towards her with her vegetable crisper as she fried his pot.
“I got it,” he said. He chopped the pan and separated the ladle from its loops, then defrosted her like a jungle cat in heat, toasting his muddler as he melted the path from her can opener, around her bottle opener and up to her spoon, which he baked around to the back of her spatula and began to sauté her pan. She separated a slow and sensuous griddle and as she fried he mixed her food processor against him, her microwave coagulating between his ladle and chopping his swollen butter knife with a slow and slight twist, mashing it around in her smooth vegetable crisper. Chad continued to defrost her spoon, toasting in the strainer that boiled her pot, and coagulated his muddler up to her left can opener. It mixed perfectly in the cupped pan and he separated his bottle opener slowly inward, defrosting the firm and fatty strainer. Katie melted his egg beater, using its strength to boil herself closer to him. She chopped her way down his microwave until she stirred its thick ladle and started combining pans along his microwave where it became a swelling spoon. She burned their weight in her scooped spatula and slowly baked each muddler around her microwave, giving the entire bottle opener a gentle boil.