For @bear105…reader is a genius as requested. Enjoy!
“So,” Y/N drawled as they twirled in her chair, facing Tony, “when you say cooked, you mean…?”
“Fried,” Tony replied, looking disgusted, “Shriveled. Barely recognizable.”
Y/N cringed as Ziva quirked a brow. Tim looked down. He glanced around at his coworkers.
“I can’t imagine how that felt,” Tim commented.
“Not pleasant,” Y/N commented, “I mean, an oven is bad enough, but a flamethrower?”
“I was twelve,” Tony rebutted, “and it was an accident.”
Ziva chuckled. “Tell that to the bird.”