When the next day dawned, instead of coming out to have his regular jogging, Chris spent time in the kitchen trying to make something to eat.
Unfortunately...
"..."
Chris went silent. He couldn't retort.
There was indeed smoke coming off his kitchen's stove, and the thing lying at the bottom of the casserole was nowhere near something which could be called 'food'.
The system that 'saw' his twitching lips felt proud and began to flame him again.
