His first mornin in the Rdi seemed to be going pleasant enough. Dressed in his usual clothing consisting of pinstripe pants held up by suspenders. A white shirt tucked neatly within them. A white apron tied over his form. Standing over the sink. Cradling a bowl while a wooden spoon swirled some batter to be used with the morning's meal. Sid had warned him about the vile pot which had been chained in the kitchen, but since it was confined the Boggan felt there nothing to fear. Pulling a skillet down from the over hanging rack and a monucum of lard placed within. He lit the fire under the burner before moving to the cubbard and grabbing another bowl. Flour,eggs,water,milk, and berries of all varieties mixed within unaware of the soft popping sound comming from behind him. To busy concentrating on the mixture it seemed. Pouring his newest mixture into muffin trays. He opened the oven and set them bth upon a rack. And as he rose to take the other bowl he was jerked back. Fingers grabbed upon the floor clawing as he was drug. Fingernails scraping he rolled upon his back. Eyes widened as he saw that stewpot. Free of it's bonds. The lid flapping like a maw as a tendril from within was slowly pulling him foward. Grabbing a leg of a bolted down tabler. He was stretched to the point of pain. Holding on for dear lift. His arm straining to keep a grip. His other flailing around the top to look for somthing.Wooden handle found he pulled that cleaver from the table and threw it. Luckily the blade cut through that liquidy mass and he was released. Scrambling to his feet he ran for the door with that angry kettle leaping after him. Another tendril shooting out and smacking at his foot to cause him to spill upon the floor once more. Ok time for some fae magic. Thinking quickly her began to kick his feet upon the floor to enact the glamour and his form dissapeared. Reaapearing behind the kettle. Grabbing the nearest thing he could find. Which happened to be an egg beater he flung it at the pot. "Clang!" That got the thing's attention. Reaching behind himself a rolling pin was taken. Holding it before himself just as a tendril lashed for his face. Wrapping around the wooden instrument it began to pull. A foot moved under one of the chains that had bound the thing he let it draw him closer. Kicking the chain up he grabbed it with one hand, and with a stomp of his foot. Bend of knees he leaped rather high into the air landing upon the top of that kettle. Laying upon the top of it. Hands clenched the handles of the pot as it began to buck and hop about trying to shake the boggan off. Now he was holding on for dear life. Eyes watched the ground moving up and down. Then he saw his moment. In the thing's bouncing it laded upon that length of chain . Releasing the side of the kettle he quickly rolled to one side. LAnding upon his feet both ends of the chain lifted and he wrapepd then ends about one another. Running foward and pulling tight. Boggans could do things rather quickly when no body was watching them, and this was one of those times seeing as the stew was not "Alive" A knot tied and he dove to the side as it lunged for him. the end of that chain pulled with all his might and made it through one of the rings that was bolted to the floor. Tying it off. Grunting he whiped his brow and checked his specs. Unbroken. but the thing lumbered foward once more. Backing up into a corner he crouched. And as it barreled foward he with anothe expendature of glamour leaped over it. Grabbing a second length of chain. Standing off to the side and taunting the thing to give chace, and it did. Once more charge. He darted to the side and circled the ketle. Wrapping the chain around it and tying it off to another ring. The kettle now quite entangled in that mass was now somewhat imbolilized. A breath of air escaped his lungs and he moved back to the table. Whistling to calm his nerves as he continued to his mixing. That was the first and surely not the last time he would have to fend off the accursed Grail's stew, and boy did he loathe that day.