Gabe nodded. There was a lot of cups on the table, it happened. Mamaw about loses her mind when someone spills something since it often caused a domino affect. Someone tries to catch the spill, knocks something else. It was bad.

"Oh okay," he agreed. He hadn't actually cooked the eggs, he'd just whisked them. But he'd watched Junior, so how hard could it be? He cracked open a few eggs and got a couple pieces of eggshell in the bowl. Digging them out got his hand all gooey, so he wiped it on his jeans. So now his jeans were dirty. Then he whisked it to an inch of its life and poured his eggs in the pan Deaton had intended to use for the sausage. Because, kids.