Candy jars sound like a peculiar foodstuff. I have been yearning to taste candy skulls, however.

Jars. They would definitely not be my first choice, but let it be known, I am not a picky eater.

Here we are! I shall be answering prompt #3. Enjoy!

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The clock ticked away, noting the passing of time. Leaves fell outside, plucked away by the harsh winds.

The young man stood in the center of his dining room, and inhaled deeply. The stagnant air had a familiar smell, a scent to which he had known most of his life. He paid no attention to the other details of the dining room aside from the gleaming polished table, and the busy clock which hung in an important manner on the wall. 

Wasting no time, he stepped into the kitchen. The young man licked his supple chops, salivating at the though of his finished product. He had decided it was time to cook an enjoyable meal. He opened the pantry, searching the sizable closet for the required ingredients. Arm reaching, he grabbed a can of marinara sauce, and a box of dried noodles. He was about to close the door before he realized he wouldn't just be cooking for himself.

A friendly voice chimed in his mind, "We'll be sure to be there!" 

Ah yes, he had invited a couple of comrades for lunch. His lips molded into a light smile at the memory. His heart beat a little faster, as a time with friends was bound to be an enjoyable one. With this in mind he stuck his hand into the pantry again, for another set of ingredients.

Taking the cans and boxes he set them onto his counter, and bent over to open a cupboard below. He chose a sizable pot, and large measuring cup. Setting the metal pot onto his stove, he turned a small dial to control the heat. In a hasty manner, he turned to the plain sink behind him, and set the cup underneath the tap. He activated the faucet, as to allow water to flow into the large cup. As the cup filled his mind drifted off to the thought of him enjoying the meal with his guests.

Water overflowed, spilling out and sliding into the drain. The young man snapped back to attention, turning off the water and reaching for the measuring cup. It was just enough to fill the pot with the required amount of water. Being careful to not spill any, the man poured the water into the warming pot. He reached above him into his spice cabinet to retrieve a salt shaker. The water began to heat up as he shook salt into the pot. Returning the salt, he stared into the tepid water. He was happy to be able to serve the people he cherished. To see their smiles and contented faces would be reward enough for him.

The water bubbled, threatening to leap out onto the stove and onto the floor. Taking action with swift and decisive movements, the young man twisted the dial, lowering the heat. He grabbed the boxes of noodles and opened them accordingly, wasting no time in emptying their contents into the boiling water awaiting below. The young man hummed a pleasant and familiar tune as he cooked, and remembered to grab a sauce pan to heat the cans of sauce. With a few sharp twists of his wrists, the can opener did its job. The thick red sauce dropped into the pan, and he adjusted the heat in the same manner as the pot of noodles earlier.

He took a glance at the clock in the other room. It would be a while until his guests arrived, and the meal was ready. A sigh of relief escaped the lad's lungs. As the food cooked, and steam rose the man set the table, placing plates and necessary utensils upon the polished wooden table. Soon enough, everything would be ready.

The noodles softened to the lad's delight, returning to the cupboard he extracted a suitable strainer for the noodles, and set it into the sink. With a lift and tilt of the pot, the water and noodles poured into the strainer and the noodles were caught as the hot brine was cast away.

Tearing into a drawer, the man found both his ladle and pasta fork. He rushed to grab the plates and forks from the table, and gave equal portions of food to everyone. He glanced up at the clock as he worked. It was almost time. The guests would be here soon, and he could hardly wait.

He set the finished plates of food onto the table and inspected everything to reassure himself that everything was in it's place. Like a sound forged in the heavens, the doorbell rang. Sprinting to answer the door, he turned the nob and was pleased to see the faces of his friends. He took their coats and hats while urging them over to the table and lead a short prayer before they ate.

He was very glad to have his comrades in his home to share his lunch. The winds outside died down, and whipped back and forth lazily. With a smile on his face and a forkfull of food on it's way to everyone's mouths, the clock struck twelve. 

We are two entities, in one body. You are very welcome.

I must accept the call of slumber. However, prepare yourselves for a written submission!