Sniff, sniff. A satisfied smile crept across Murasaki-dono's face as the delectable aroma of truffle-topped rainbow wagyu kushiyaki wafted from atop her grill in the Colors kitchen. This certainly scored as a success in culinary adventure, by her reckoning! Mikan-tan, ready to throw oranges atop the grill should Murasaki-dono look away for even a millisecond, was drooling at the sight of the food in spite of herself (i.e. the fact that food could smell that good despite not having oranges in it). "Isssh ssshoo sssshoocking though, Murasssshaki-dono," she salivated. The fact that words could escape her mouth in spite of the silly face she was making was quite the achievement, really. "I didn't figuuure I'd ever sssshhee the day when yooou'd be barbecuuuing ssshhooomething -- it doooessshn't seem classsshy at all." "Shocking?" Murasaki-dono grinned playfully. "Well, perhaps I could tell you about the one time I was given a French kiss by a mysterious stranger..."