Summary: Nightmare needs a botany book-

Nightmare's brows furrowed as he concentrated on the most trying challenge he'd faced in centuries: preparing dinner.

Atop the counter in front of him laid the ingredients he selected from the kitchen fridge. Mushrooms, fruits, edible bugs (which mysteriously disappeared when his back was turned), poultry - Anything he had experience cooking with prior to being a mighty beacon of negativity.

The tendrils lining his back aided his quest by completing various little tasks: sorting through the mushrooms, gathering spices, and etc.

Dust and Killer watched from the other side of the room. Their curiosity palpable even to those without Nigthmare's abilities.

His cyan eyelight landed on the third member of his gang as the other stepped through the kitchen doorway, carrying the spoils from his trip grocery store.

"Ah, Horror. Welcome back." The dark lord greeted, examining the earthy brown lumps peeking out the top of one of the bags. "I see you picked up some ground apples while you were at the store. Good. They will do nicely for the pie I plan on making later."

A loud snort escaped Killer. All the while, he raised a brow. "Ground apples? Heh- Boss, those are potatoes."

"I do not appreciate your correction; you'll get no pie when it's finished." Nightmare sneered while his tendrils took the bags from Horror.

"Aw, come on! That's not fair." Killer whined.

Dust smirked, snickering as he wrapped his arm around the target-souled skeleton's shoulder. "You heard him, Kills. No ground apple pie for you."