Walking in, Thomas took in a deep breath through his nose and let it out. "Ahh yeah. Pancakes, you are mine!" He said eagerly as he grabbed a plate. Really, it was nice not having to wait for other people, and that he could just grab what he wanted. However, while on the outside, he looked rather calm and somewhat goofy, on the inside, particularly in the back of his mind, he was going over what the note said. While yes, it very well could have been a simple joke, whoever made it had taken it a bit far. Shrugging to himself, Thomas decided to just settle on the fact that whoever left it was simply an asshole.
Stacking his plate high with pancakes, Thomas got some coffee and sat down, happily munching away on pancakes. Maybe it was an unconscious effort to pass the time, or maybe it was mere superstitious worry in his head, but his mind couldn't help but wander to the stories of the Melon-headed Kids. According to one of the stories, the children were subjected to experiments where fluids were injected into their head, exacerbating their already existing hydrocephalus. Some stories suggest that they were the result of resorting to cannibalism and inbreeding, but whatever it was, those stories weren't local to Vermont, so he didn't really know why he was in such a bother about it.