Yeah. That's nice. Can I get access to the toaster or no?

[Erika crosses her arms over her chest and stares at the woman brandishing a knife at her. If anything, her expression is bored and on the edge of exasperation. A bag of bread dangles from one hand, a casual twist of her hand wrapping the plastic a bit more tightly.]

Seriously, I'll make you a sandwich or something. You like peanut butter?