Chapitre 2: Is good?
David got home and unloaded his grocery bags, setting them on the counter.
Tonight wasn't just any night—it was a night of celebration.
After everything he'd been through lately, he was ready to treat himself to some good old Texas cooking.
He glanced at the ingredients he'd bought: a big slab of brisket, veggies, potatoes, and a couple of cheaper ingredients for a backup dish in case he didn't feel like going all out with the brisket.
Alongside the brisket, David planned to make a small serving of chicken-fried steak, a more affordable classic.
It was simple, satisfying, and didn't break the bank.
A couple of thin, cheap cuts , some flour, seasoning, and a quick pan-fry, and it would be a golden-brown perfection.
Plus, he had all the fixings for mashed potatoes and roasted veggies, so it was a win-win.
He pulled out his cast iron skillet, well-worn from years of use. "Alright, let's get started," he muttered.
He seasoned the brisket with a homemade rub—paprika, garlic powder, salt, black pepper, brown sugar, and cayenne—massaging it into the meat.
He set it aside to marinate while he moved on to prepping the chicken-fried steak.
He dredged the steak in seasoned flour, then dipped it into a buttermilk mixture before tossing it back into the flour for a good coating.
The oil in the skillet was already shimmering, hot and ready.
He dropped the steak in, and it sizzled loudly, filling the kitchen with the smell of crispy, fried goodness.
While everything cooked, he turned on the TV to have something in the background.
A SunnyV2 video popped up in his YouTube recommendations: "The Latest YouTube Drama: Mr.Crabs Rise and Fall."
"Perfect," David said, clicking it on. SunnyV2's calm voice began narrating the latest YouTuber meltdown.
"Today, we're diving into the rapid downfall of a hero considered creator…" Sunny began, the usual dramatic B-roll and statistics filling the screen.
David laughed a little as he flipped the chicken-fried steak in the pan, getting a good golden crust on both sides. "Always something going on with these YouTubers," he muttered to himself. "They just can't stay out of trouble, huh?"
SunnyV2 continued, breaking down the situation in his typical measured style, blending commentary and analysis. "It seems like no matter how big someone gets online, they're never more than one step away from controversy…"
David plated the chicken-fried steak and set it aside to stay warm while he checked on the brisket.
The smell of smoky, Texas-style BBQ filled the kitchen as he pulled it out of the oven.
It had cooked low and slow to perfection.
He sliced into it, revealing the beautiful pink smoke ring and tender meat beneath the crisp crust.
With a smile, he loaded his plate with a bit of everything: a slice of brisket, crispy chicken-fried steak, buttery mashed potatoes, and roasted veggies.
He even threw in a side of gravy for the steak, because what's chicken-fried steak without gravy?
Back on the TV, SunnyV2 was still going, now talking about the deeper ramifications of cancel culture. "If we look at the trends, it's clear that online fame can be as fleeting as it is explosive…"
David smirked as he sat down to eat, cutting into the chicken-fried steak first.
The crust was crunchy, the meat tender, and the gravy added that extra bit of Southern comfort.
It was the kind of meal that made you feel good about being alive.
The brisket was next, and as he took his first bite, he practically melted.
Smoky, juicy, perfectly seasoned—it was Texas BBQ done right.
He leaned back in his chair, letting out a contented sigh. "Man," he muttered between bites, "Why do i not make this more?"
The YouTube drama might've been playing in the background, but right now, it was just noise.
The real focus was on the food, the peace of being alone, and the sense of accomplishment that came with turning a rough patch into something worth celebrating.
David leaned back in his chair filled with satisfaction after finishing his meal.
The Texas-style brisket and chicken-fried steak had hit the spot.
He glanced over at the clock and thought about what he said earlier to Dustin.
Maybe it's time to hop on COD, just like the old days.
He grabbed his controller, booted up his console, and threw on his headset. Before long, the familiar hum of Call of Duty: Warzone filled the room, and his lobby connected with Dustin's.
"Yo, Dusty!" David greeted, his voice already sounding a little more energized than usual.
The satisfying dinner, coupled with the nostalgia of reconnecting with his old friend, had him feeling good.
"Damn, look who actually found the time to play," Dustin teased. "I half-expected you to ghost me again."
David laughed. "Nah, man. I'm back, baby! You ready to carry me, or what?"
"Carry you? You mean like I did all through 'Modern Warfare 2' back in the day?" Dustin shot back.
David chuckled. "We'll see about that." They loaded into the match, and immediately, the trash talk began.
As they dropped into the warzone, another random player joined their squad—a kid, maybe 12 or 13, by the sound of his voice.
The kid wasted no time getting into David and Dustin's banter.
"Hey, you guys any good, or am I gonna have to carry you?" the kid asked, his voice cracking mid-sentence.
David couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, we got a little hotshot here. What's your KD, champ?"
"Better than yours, old man," the kid fired back, his mic crackling.
David raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Old man? Boy, you weren't even born when I started playing Call of Duty. Better buckle up, this is gonna be a rough one for you."
The match started, and chaos quickly ensued.
David and Dustin were already swearing left and right, mostly at the game itself—getting downed, respawning, and getting downed again.
"Ah, come on!" David shouted as he got shot from behind. "Who the hell is watching my six? Dustin, get your head outta your ass!"
"Bro, you're the one who ran into the open!" Dustin snapped back, laughing. "Calm down, we'll get you back."
Meanwhile, the kid was still going. "Man, you guys really suck. Are you sure you're not playing on mobile or something?"
David rolled his eyes, grinning wickedly. "Oh yeah? At least my balls have dropped, kid."
Dustin burst out laughing. "You gonna take that, man?" he teased the kid.
The kid didn't miss a beat. "Keep talking, grandpa. I'll 360 no-scope you right back to the nursing home."
David laughed so hard he nearly dropped his controller. "Alright, alright, you got some fire, kid. Let's see you back it up."
As the match wore on, the trio actually started playing well together, but the insults kept flying.
David was in his element, roasting the kid at every opportunity and trading jabs with Dustin as they fought to stay in the game.
But amid the noise of the game, the playful shouting, and the clattering of controllers, something went unnoticed.
The door to David's house quietly creaked open.
In the middle of another chaotic gunfight, David stood up from his seat to stretch, his back to the door. "Alright, I'm about to clutch this," he said, completely unaware of the subtle intrusion behind him.
The kid's voice rang out again through his headset. "Oh yeah? I'll believe it when I see it, old man!"
David smirked, completely oblivious as his front door silently closed once again, a shadow moving through the house without a sound.
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Stones and Reviews please
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone