Oswin curses in a language he probably hasn't stumbled across yet and scoops up the fire extinguisher - she's become way too well acquainted with these, but at least it lets her charge forward with confidence.

Once the oven and its contents are sprayed down with a heavy layer of foam (and then some more, just for good measure), she takes a moment to assess the situation.

"... maybe Bar will give us a souffle."