[Hector ducks into the alcove where Dracula kept his strange ice box. He takes a deep, steadying breath, then pulls out the bowl of chilling yogurt.
Gods, he has so many more feelings about Dracula than he does his own parents.
He gives the yogurt a quick stir, silently declares that it is coming along nicely, then returns to the main kitchen area with, hopefully, no sign of any unsightly emotions.]
Alright, let me see...
[He assesses a sampling from both groups. Pockets achieved in each...a uniform color on the oven-baked, some crisp dark spots on the stove-baked for extra texture.... Of course Alucard would have to pick this up like he does everything else, the smug, infuriating bastard.
...so like his father...]
They are both good. It’s a matter of personal preference whether you prefer them soft or crisp.
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Gods, he has so many more feelings about Dracula than he does his own parents.
He gives the yogurt a quick stir, silently declares that it is coming along nicely, then returns to the main kitchen area with, hopefully, no sign of any unsightly emotions.]
Alright, let me see...
[He assesses a sampling from both groups. Pockets achieved in each...a uniform color on the oven-baked, some crisp dark spots on the stove-baked for extra texture.... Of course Alucard would have to pick this up like he does everything else, the smug, infuriating bastard.
...so like his father...]
They are both good. It’s a matter of personal preference whether you prefer them soft or crisp.