He barely had time to boil the kettle before the imp returned, two plates of English breakfast clasped in his hands, an extra plate inverted over each to both keep the heat in and stop the contents spilling off. His loincloth was stuffed with sausages and he balanced a hat of what looked suspiciously like pancakes on his head, drips of syrup seeping from between each layer until they resembled the offerings of some minor god of feasting in an amateur porn movie. It would have to be very amateur indeed to have Devious as a star.
“Here you go.” The imp put the plates on the table and uncovered them. The mountain of scrambled eggs covered in cheese and tomato sauce he passed to Lucy and the more traditional breakfast, bacon, egg, sausage and fried bread swimming in a shallow pond of lard, he put in front of the empty seat.
Harold sat, passing Lucy a knife and fork despite her attempt to use the triangles of toast as makeshift spoons. “Do get yourself a plate, Devious. You're dripping over the floor.”
“Right you are, Master.” He inverted his head over one of the spare plates and spent the next minute washing his head in the manner of a cat, running his arm over his scalp and licking it clean. Harold tried not to watch and dipped a corner of his fried bread into the runny albumen coving the egg yolk.
“Where did you go?”
“The Philly on Cheap Street.” Devious rolled a sausage inside a pancake and began to eat it. “Good variety there.”
“I'm surprised he didn't notice the food going. He's not exactly a fast food joint.”
“Oh, he did, but I took them from yesterday, not this morning.”
“Oh.” Harold tried to work out the logistics of stealing food from the day before but couldn't. “Well, it's still hot. Thanks.”