Work Text:
Professor Ian Duncan sat hunched over his office desk, a sharp pain in his stomach. He had poured himself some coffee from a machine that he’d bought recently, but the milk that he had put in, much to his dismay, had expired. He was beginning to regret ever making this purchase, and groaned dreadfully.
There was a knock at the door.
“It’s open,” Duncan stammered, trying not to vomit. The door opened; it was Britta.
“Are you… okay?” she had heard him making retching noises from down the hall.
Duncan immediately sat upright, trying to downplay his discomfort in the presence of someone he was infatuated with. “Oh, never bet–”
He was interrupted by the sudden need to throw up everything he had consumed that morning, and quickly grabbed the trash bin by his desk. Slowly, he brought himself up to face Britta.
“Seems my milk has gone off,” he grumbled. “I don’t get it, the expiry date says it should be disposed of on the 3rd of May, and it’s only the 2nd!”
“Let me see the carton.”
Duncan, who for some reason had still not thrown out the carton, handed it to Britta, who nearly passed out from the stench.
“Professor Duncan… this milk expired on March 5th.”
The professor had a visible look of confusion on his face. Britta tried to remain patient with him.
“Did nobody tell you that in America, we put the month before the date?”
Duncan said nothing, but his silence was enough of an answer for Britta.
“Oh jeez…”
“It’s not my fault you Americans have to be so bloody different from everybody else! Using weird measurements, for one. 20 degrees should not be freezing, you weirdos!”
“Sorry,” Britta replied sarcastically, “I’ll talk to the Measurement Wizards and get that fixed just for you.” She turned on her heel, and walked away. Duncan, still recovering, could only stare into space wonderingly.
“The… measurement wizards?” he asked to no-one in particular, with a tone that suggested he thought Britta was being genuine.