SATURDAY, 11:49 AM: ROOM 407 - CARMELA'S ROOM
Carmela was halfway through her second pizza when there was a knock at her door. Ugh. The goddamn nerve of these kids. Since we saw her last, Carmela had received her opulent to say the least lunch. The tantalizing spread had been unloaded atop the coffee table as she watched, unmoving and lounging on her bed. She also demanded the delivery girls push the table across the room to her bedside so she could have easier access. Her intent to move from her position was non-existent; the less exertion the better. This was move-in day, for crying out loud! What more productive thing to do but sample the best the Buttercombe cafeteria had to offer… and sample she did.
Before her rude interruption, Carm had wolfed down in record time three of four orders of mac and cheese, barely breathing between bites, about half of her chicken nuggets, one and a half of her root beer bottles, and finally experienced one of the greatest culinary ideas she had ever conceptualized. Since she mentioned it at the floor meeting, Carmela had been thinking about Mexican food. How she hadn't had a really good burrito in a long time. Or a great taco. Then, mouth full of cheesy pasta, eyeing the pizzas yet to grace her taste buds, inspiration struck. She opened one of the boxes and dumped one of her mac and cheese containers onto the circular pie, then sprinkled chicken nuggets into the mix. She rolled the pizza up, bread sagging with grease, cheese coming out of its tubular opening, and held it like an award. My God. It's fucking beautiful. She chomped down on her giant pizza burrito and continued and continued, the cheese staining the margins of her mouth and chin like a poorly applied yellow lipstick. Occasionally stray macaronis dropped down onto her lap and shirt and cleavage, an unfortunate casualty of her display of gluttony.
After devouring the whole thing, Carm leaned back to catch her breath. She rubbed her belly, which was taut but still hidden beneath her baggy shirt. Memories of seconds ago danced in her head. She belched, something she only really tried to do at the end of meals as some sort of cosmic compliment to the chef, but she couldn't help herself. There was so much, she needed to make room. Fuuuuck. Then, in her moment of respite, a knock at her door, and from Carmela, a different kind of "fuuuuuck." She tried to stay silent in the hopes that whoever was knocking would think she's out and go away, but that thought process was interrupted with another beefy burp. They knocked again. Well, shit. Guess she had to answer now.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the door was Catie, the aspiring restaurant owner from before. She was still in her Buttercombe uniform since she and Dee, her roommate, didn't have a chance to change yet. She held in her hand the roommate agreement form and room inspection checklist, very basic paperwork for dorm living, but she was bracing herself for the worst from her RA, especially because of the signage on her door saying "IF THIS DOOR IS SHUT, I'M BUSY". But she wasn't prepared to take any shit.
From inside, there was a persistent thudding of footsteps until the door swung open, hitting Catie with an overwhelming pizza smell as Carmela stared her down. Even though Carmela was the same height as Catie, she seemed to loom above her like a grand mountain. Her mouth was covered in cheese and sauce, bent to a slight frown. She had very clearly been interrupted. "What do you want. Can't you read the sign? It says when the door's closed I'm busy."
Catie was, of course, prepared. "Well Carmela, I'm just here for my room inspection. I'd like to get it over with."
Carmela rudely licked some of the cheese from her lower lip. "Didn't I tell you at the meeting to wait for tomorrow for that? I've got- URRRRRRP. Work to do today." She didn't excuse herself after her burp, instead lifting up her shirt slightly to expose her fat gut, giving it a little jiggle so as to convey "the work I just spoke of is stuffing my face".
"Like I said, I'd like to get it over with. I have things to do tomorrow, and so does my roommate."
It seemed to Catie that Carm admired her persistence, but really she realized that she could use this interruption to her advantage. "Alright. Fine. I'll get my clipboard and we'll do your inspection." She shut the door in Catie's face. This was annoying, but it was a chance for HER to be annoying.
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