Grill

The Gorse Fox had to get to one of the Starfleet offices this afternoon. He was there for a grilling to see if he was eligible to advance. Needless to say things conspired to make it challenging... the morning was busier than expected, but he did manage to grab some sandwiches that could be consumed on the move.

He drove back towards London and tucked in to his BLT... dripping fresh tomato down his clean white shirt (chosen especially for the event). An expletive may have escaped his lips soon after the tomato. He splashed water from his water bottle to see if he could wash it off - but it had found a comfortable spot and was not planning to budge.

He parked up at Starfleet and remembered he had a spare, clean shirt in his case - this was just the sort of emergency it was there for, so he stood in the middle of the car park and changed his shirt and tie before heading inside to meet the panel. Adrenaline was pumping and the Gorse Fox found that his mouth was dry (but supposes that's better than dribbling while you meet the great and good).

An hour later and a little shell-shocked he wandered out and assessed that as a first step - it seemed to go quite well, but there's plenty more hurdles to leap over the coming two months.