Brute Posted June 28, 2011 Report Share Posted June 28, 2011 Brute crept into the kitchen, careful to not make a sound as he moved from cupboard to cupboard, collecting bowls, spoon, and various other cooking utensils. When he was satisfied he had everything needed, he removed a thick piece of parchment from a pocket and flattened it on the counter. As he read the what was written, his hands absently fished out a large flask from another pocket. Slurping the contents of the flask, he moved around the kitchen gathering flour, sugar, eggs, a few spices, several bottles of rum, and a basket of radishes. Placing all the ingredients on the counter near the bowls and cooking implements, he once more looked at the parchment while taking another sip from the flask. "Heh, heh.. Zool's gonna love the Rum and Radish cake I make for him." Brute began to mix the ingredients, carefully following the recipe's instructions. As soon as he finished chopping the radishes and dumping them into the huge mixing bowl, he emptied the rum bottles into the bowl and gave it a final stir. Satisfied that the cake mix was ready, he fired up the oven with a quick incantation, then poured the batter into a very large chicken-shaped cake pan. Wiping flour from his face, Brute grinned and pushed the pan into the oven. "Time for a little snack," he told himself, and wandered off to his room to fetch the Decanter. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Harmonious_Echos Posted June 29, 2011 Report Share Posted June 29, 2011 Muse pops through the oven wall & sticks a ghostly finger in the batter, yells "Ouch!" and then licks her finger, yells "Yuck!" and pops out again. Harmony wanders in to sniff appreciatively at a distance, & drop off a large, green prism-paper-wrapped box on the table before wandering out again. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Portrait of Zool Posted June 29, 2011 Report Share Posted June 29, 2011 As the oven heats up the volatile ingredients begin to hiss and boil. Acrid fumes rise from the pan, corroding the metal oven. It gets hotter and hotter... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Brute Posted June 29, 2011 Author Report Share Posted June 29, 2011 While wandering through the halls with his beloved Decanter and singing terribly off-key drinking songs, Brute detects a faint aroma. "Whuzzzat? Shsmellss kinda like...rum!" He turns abruptly and bounces off a wall, then steadies himself. With his nose held high, he draws in the scent deeply. "Hmmm, sshmells like rum, yup. Also shsmells like rad.. um, radi..radishshes! Ooh! someone's making a rum an radi..rum an rash.. rum an rashid..my favorite cake!" Brute smiles as he breathes deeply, trying to capture the scent that lingers heavily in the air. Something in the back of his mind tingles a bit, as if he has forgotten something. "Oh no," he utters, suddenly remembering his earlier plans for Zool's birthday. With a staggering lurch, he launches himself down the hallway to the kitchens. Dark smokes slowly leaks from the corners of the oven door as Brute rushes to it. Throwing open the oven, he staggers back from the cloud of smoke that billows out. Brute waves his arms violently in attempt to clear the smoke. Brute spies a pair of oven mitts and uses them to remove the large chicken-shaped cake pan and sets the blackened cake atop the oven. "It's perfect," he mutters to himself. "He's gonna love thish delishush cake I made. Now jush gotta put a lil' frosting on ta hide the burn marksh." Stumbling about, Brute takes a long draw from the Decanter, then pulls from the cabinet a small tub of specially made frosting labeled 'chromazool frosting- yellow'. Soon, the cake is hideously decorated with an odd, yellowish frosting that makes the cake resemble a half-plucked chicken. "Iss perfet..perfect," Brute slurs, then takes another huge gulp of booze. With a loud burp, balances the cake precariously in one hand and staggers out of the kitchen, seeking Zool. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Harmonious_Echos Posted June 29, 2011 Report Share Posted June 29, 2011 The green package on the table shudders, shuffles, then hops down & quietly follows the drunken Brute, balance-'walking' on its corners. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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