[ eddie misses the freaky bag moment, where robin's sticking her hand into another dimension. he would have commented, though, and at least found that cool. that's bag of holding level shit right there.

he is busy gagging still, tries to wash his mouth out with the drink and --- nope. he doesn't even get to swallow that before it's spat back out on the ground and he wipes at his chin with the back of his hand. what the fucking jesus h. christ is going on?! ] Fuck.

[ he spits again, looks up at robin as she looks through the dates on the box. october 1986 is a few months out and sure, time has passsed but it was only a second to get here. that makes him nervous, points out that something's not right and maybe it's not the food. ] Uh. Yours tastes fine? [ he repeats slowly and, then, tears off the top that he bit off of his own -- buckley freaked out about bats and rabies and eddie maybe germs? he can't remember -- then holds the bar out to her. ] Can you-- this is going to sound weird. Can you check if this one tastes fine to you?

Earlier-- I-- I was eating a sandwich from here earlier and it tasted like shit too. [ it's really not looking like a food problem. ]