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Abbie has slept a grand total of three hours in the past two days, and she is going to get a good nights sleep tonight, god damnit. Ichabod Crane will not stop her in this plight.
"Lieutenant, what is this?" Abbie rubs a hand across her forehead in irritation, attempting to stay calm.
After narrowly escaping the Headless Horseman and almost getting fired from her job, she realized that she would have to be the one to take Ichabod in. It's not like he could have his own house, and the only money he had was from two hundred and fifty years ago, so she was stuck with him.
"It's called a blender," she says, patience failing. "You blend food, like fruit and and milk and ice or something, in it to make it into liquid you can drink." he nods, blue eyes wide as he examines the chord. After a long shower and a new set of clothes, Abbie decides he looks much more presentable. Handsome, even. He'd probably be more handsome if he was sleeping, like he was supposed to be doing at the moment.
"Fascinating," he murmurs, squinting at the outlet, brows pulls together. "And you plug it into-- the outlet?" she sighs and nods.
"Yes. Can I please go to bed now? Without you calling me every five seconds to ask the function of every one of my kitchen appliances?" he nods vaguely and Abbie rolls her eyes, stumbling back towards her room. She hopes he'll soon grow tired of everything and anything that's been invented in the past two hundred and fifty years long enough so he can finally go to sleep.
Just as she's lying her head back onto her pillow, she hears a loud whirring noise, followed by a series of shrieks and splatters. She lies on her back and rubs her eyes.
"Is it worth it?" she asks the ceiling. A clatter from the kitchen answers her. She sighs heavily and rolls back out of bed, heading back to the kitchen cautiously.
The sight that greets her is almost surprising, to say the least. The walls, counters, floor, and Ichabod are all covered in what seems to be a chunky, pinkish-red substance, dripping and wet. Ichabod is wielding the blender, filled halfway full with the pink stuff, like a weapon, panting and clutching the unplugged cord in his other hand.
Ichabod is absolutely spattered with it, his face dripping the liquid onto his messy shirt. His shirt and pants probably have the worst damange besides his face, forcing them to stick to his skin in odd places. His eyes are wide behind the stuff, flitting around before landing on Abbie.
Abbie can't help it and starts laughing.
"I--" Ichabod says as Abbie clutches the doorway, wheezing with laughter. "I was attempting to use this blender, and it exploded. Did you know it was going to do this?" he accuses, frowning, but Abbie can't take him seriously when his face is pink.
"What--What did you do?" she pants between giggles. "Oh my god, is that a strawberry?" Abbie would think he'd be blushing if his face wasn't already pink.
"I--yes. And milk," he says. "I simply put the two ingredients in, I wanted to see if they would combine as a liquid." he says helplessly.
"Did you put the top on?" she asks, breathing evenly to try and get it together. He blinks.
"The--top?" she cracks up again.