#snackpackstarter

            there’s no such thing as too much ketchup. well, at least not in rory’s very humble opinion. an on looker might have a very different opinion. she focuses on squeezing the remaining sauce from the half empty bottle intently -- just to make sure she didn’t spill any onto her new bright flowery sundress. there’s  a mound of ketchup piled nearly as high as the hamburger beside it on her plate before tragedy strikes. empty. “oh fucking..” she huffs in irritation, shaking the bottle a little bit in an effort to shimmy down more sauce.  she looks around the table before her for a new bottle. again, to no avail. “what kinda barbeque runs out of ketchup!” she complains to the person nearby her, hardly paying any attention to who she’s speaking to. rory just needed to mourn out loud. “you wouldn’t happen to have any ketchup on you, would you?” 

      ﹟ ⠀  she’s  quick  –  a  scary  kind  of  swift  when  her  hand  reaches  out  and  grabs  the  wrist  of  her  friend,  pulling  them  in  closely.    ❝      oh  my  god,  do  you  remember  my  neighbor  growing  up?  the  house  on  the  left,  with  the  green  window  shutters?  she  has  a  lovechild!      ❞   she  exclaims.    ❝      so,  legally,  you  have  to  tell  me  who  you  think  the  father  is  –  because  one  of  my  regulars  said  it  was  a  summer  resident  but  my  other  neighbor  said  it  was  someone  important  in  town.  so  –  bets?      ❞

SAWYER: tell me you're free