Thwarted in their efforts to obtain and consume dubious foodstuffs from the cosmically underwhelming gastro-mobile festival, yet still desiring a lunch seasoned with taste of propane and desperation, the humans have decided to walk over to one of the food trucks that can frequently be found on the campus. (This is, incidentally, the only interesting truck that showed up at the festival.)
Like carnivorous jungle flowers, they entice their unsuspecting prey with bright colors and alluring scents…
Let’s see what’s cooking today. They are out of a few things, but the mortals are finding a few things to sample.
I cry foul! The truffle fries (fried potatoes seasoned with truffle oil or dust or tears or something) were consumed by the humans before we even made it back to the coolth of the office! They were quite delectable, but Sigyn and I got only one apiece, which is scarcely equitable. I therefore demand first stab at the entree!
By Volstagg’s groaning belt buckle! That is an awful lot of vegetation concealing what is meant to be grilled beef and rice. Watch out for flying foliage, Sigyn, I’m going in!
(Mmunch. Nibble. Snarf.) Hmmm. Tasty! The meat is well-seasoned and the onions are mostly grilled. A smidge on the greasy side, but I believe that is a prerequisite for truck-food. The contents of the tiny cup are extraordinarily piquant, just the sort of condiment the human female abhors.
Hark, mortal! Heed this prophecy from Loki, Future Emperor of Midgard: Woe unto the glutton of the fungal fries, for even she shall taste the wrath of the Cursed Cup! Hide the cold drink and grab the camera, dearest! We are about to get some really interesting facial expressions. Pouring sauce in 3…2…1…