This was true fear: hearing his grandfather had food on hand. There were few things Ben was openly afraid of, and Max Tennyson’s xenocuisine was most certainly high on that list ( and constantly fighting the spot with peacocks ). Gulping down the lump in his throat as he also swallowed the urge to scream ABSOLUTELY NOT , he chuckled nervously.
“ Haha, I’m … surprisingly not hungry. I ate earlier before getting here. Thanks though grandpa! “
Not a total lie. A smoothie was food, especially when it was full of protein. Nothing said lunch like mango, kiwi, and tilapia all blended together with non-dairy yogurt! That would keep him going until he got hungry in two hours, then forget he’s hungry, then not eat until this the day was over. Or the next day. Depends how distracted he got.
Max looked up at his grandson from over the pot lid he was holding as a shield where the screeching an foul smell of his food wafted through the room, obliviousness on his features ; a trait he had come to possess when it came to his cooking. ❝Fair enough,❞ he replied jovially before slamming the lid down fully on his concoction ( more so because he was afraid that his food would escape ) with a wide smile. ❝I know you have pretty bad eating habits so I made extra -- you can have some later, plenty there for Rook, Gwen and Kevin too.❞ he already had a bowl full for himself placed to one side, some kind of stew swimming with tentacles and eyeballs, the usual for Max Tennyson’s palate.
❝On a serious note, Dr. Animo is back in town, I need you and Rook to run some recon later and find out what he’s up to.❞
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