...
Wendy Quay watched in surprise as the couple stared each other down like roosters in a cockfight. How had they gone from happy to abject anger in such a short time? She slapped her forehead in response, noting the couple indeed were the kind that fight then reconciled on repeat.
"Heh, and here I thought with Wendy's culinary skills there's no way the noodles could taste this bad," Yves King spoke with a smirk. "Turns out these are noodles cooked by Eldest Miss Owen herself. Did you even taste the soup when you were making it?"
"Yves King, you think I'd fall for your tricks?" Faye Owen huffed in protest, "Anyway, I cooked the last portion of noodles. Either order in barbecue, or go hungry." She couldn't help but feel a small pang of vindication - serves you right for taking my good intentions for granted!
If I'd known it'd turn out this way, I wouldn't have bothered to bail you out from the police station. Should have let them lock you up instead.
