C is for Cookie (duh) {open}

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Taking another twizzler from the the package, he watched as the girl bounced around the kitchen, a trail of flour and sugar following behind her like she was some sort of jet flying through the air. Jeremy grinned, chuckling lightly as he watched her move about. This kitchen was going to be a total disaster by the end of their little session.

As Frank adjusted the bowls, the boy took the liberty of tossing the empty plastic bottles into the trash, returning to the table to be greeted by her slapping the table, stirring up flour into the air. "What?!" He questioned her laughter before she explained things. A subtle shade of pink took over his cheeks. "Oh..." He trailed off for a moment before tossing his hands in the air. "I told you I'm not a baker, woman!" He joked, "I mean come on! This is like brain surgery to me!" He couldn't help but laugh at his mistake, head shaking as he looked down at the bowl of murky brown liquid once more. 

The girl went on, explaining that it would now be a suicide cake before gesturing an explosion which sent flour and sugar into the air around the two of them, a nice dusting landing on Jeremy's hair. He puffed, getting a few bits that had settled down onto his cheeks off before chuckling a bit more. "Alright alright. Easy there pigpen." He teased.

The next instructions seemed fairly easy, and quickly the boy began to work. Taking the bowl in hand, he began to pour the liquid that sat inside into each of the bowls that she had done up on the table. After all was said and done, he began to take each bowl one by one and place them into the mixers, locking them into place....or well he thought. "That should do it." He spoke as after locking the last one into place. "Alright! Come work your magic, Frankie!" He spoke, taking a step back to prepare for the worst.

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

Frank just giggled more at Jeremy's protests, not as if she hadn't already been nearly collapsing into giggle-fits every few steps or minutes or what have you. Still, there was something insane about this whole setup: making giant cakes outta two-liters of soda with a fellow insane person, flour and sugar flying about all around them. Frank actually took a shot of the pure sugar, stopping for a moment to enjoy the sheer flavor of it all.

By the time she was done, Jeremy had completed his task. Frank let out another little whoop, clapping her hands, which, of course, sent more ingredients flying about her in a hazy cloud. "Magic time!" she crowed, wiggling her fingers. She hopped from bowl to bowl, doing a few last minute adjustments. Jeremy had only missed getting one, which Frank gave a little wiggle. As she hit a last one, it did occur to her that there might be some foaming... should she mention that to Jeremy...?

Nah, where was the fun in that?

Frank darted across the line of mixers, clicking each one on in turn. They started whirring, the fizzing of the mixed suicide soda already sounding. No sooner had they started, however, when a ringing noise filled the kitchen. Frank jumped, before realizing what it was. She pointed at the oven where the cookie-pot-thing had been left. "Jeremy, get the cookie pot pan thing!' she said, wiggling her finger. "Get ittttt so we can eeeeeeat it!" which had been the plan all along. Frank was started to get hungry, since it had been, like, at least an hour since she'd eaten anything. And more sugar was always a good thing.

Always.

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Jeremy returned a rather realistic impression of Richard Nixon leaving office each time Frank decided to laugh at him. Alright, so it was just a stern look, but really you couldn't tell the difference. A smile broke out shortly after each time though, signaling he was quite contempt with the laughter. After all, much fun was to be had with the whole cake ordeal and believe it or not, the boy was well aware of his stupidity when it came to everything.

Grey eyes watched as the girl went to work, adjusting all the mixers and allowing him to take a few more steps back so he wouldn't get in her way. His mind churned on images of where this thing might go off at, and how much trouble they could possibly get in, but the later didn't matter. Jeremy wasn't the kind of person to look at rules lightly. They were more like guidelines to him, and each one could be broken if the occasion called for it.

"The cookie!" He called back, running a hand through his hair. He had almost forgotten with this whole master plot they had going on. Quickly, he slid over to the oven, and by slid I mean almost fell on his face as he tried to slide on the flour that had made it's way to the floor. Grabbing an oven mitt, he threw open the door, slid the mitt on and grabbed the handle of the pot, carefully extracting the instrument like it was some sort of experiment that could go wrong and blow up the world if dropped. Taking it, he moved it to a clear spot upon the table and sat it down before peering into the pot. "Uh..." He blinked, taking off the mitt as his eyes peered unto the image of a rather brown looking mess that laid in the pot. "I think it's ready." He chuckled, shaking his head at the image. "We should get some frosting!" He suddenly threw out. "Everything taste great with frosting."

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

Frank kept working at getting their cakes going while still keeping an eye on the cookie pot thing. Jeremy seemed to have a good handle on it though, getting the pot out of the oven and giving it a once over. Frank could smell the delicious scent of cookie wafting through the kitchen already, threatening to make her super dizzy. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that it had been far, far too long since she'd last crammed food down her gullet. That would have to be fixed post-haste.

"FROSTING!" Frank practically yelled, doing an excited little dance that somehow managed to get hair (and by extension flour and junk) everywhere. She eventually settled, taking a deep breath, and then sprinted off into another section of the kitchen. She immediately began digging about, tossing out a few things before coming out with an armful of various supplies.

"Go fetch another egg!' she said, dumping the armload on the table. She pulled another bowl out and began pulling things together, moving with obvious practice and skill. Clearly Frank ranked baking among her skills, right up there with party planning, video games, and eating food.

Which made this her most practical skill, which wasn't at all scary.

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The cookie pot ordeal wasn't a half bad idea. It was like when you got that roll of cookie dough at the store and turned it into a pizza or better yet going down to the bakery and getting a professional one. As he peered at it, he noticed it wasn't as delicious looking as those. Part of it had bubbled up on one side, making it more lopsided than anything else, but hey, a cookie is a cookie right?

Jeremy nearly jumped when the girl had screamed out behind him. He turned, eyeing her as he watched her do a small little dance that sent even more powder and sugar all over the place. It was going to be hell to clean up, if they even would, but the end result would be worth it. "See? I can think every now and again!" He chimed in, a satisfied grin spread from ear to ear.

At her request, the boy slid across the flour and sugar mess on the floor and over to the fridge, opening it up and pulling out an egg before repeating the process in reverse, scooting into the table. "Tada." He chuckled, holding the egg up before placing it upon the table. As Frank began to work on the frosting, or whatever she was doing, he turned back to the pot, grabbing a spatula from the counter and beginning to pry the edges before breaking the gooey mess loose from the sides of the pot. Going and getting a plate, Jeremy returned to the table, lifting the cookie carefully with the spatula and hand and placing it onto the plate.

[Frank "Sunny" Laffont]

"Pfft, you think all the time, Germy!' insisted Frank, her voice half protest, half-sing-song taunt. She kept up the whole flurry of motion thing, gathering ingredients in her wake. Within moments she had mixed several into a bowl, gotten a rather large whisk out, and was beating the mess with fervor. As soon as the egg appeared she added it into the mixture, her hands practically a blur. She did watch as Jeremy did his thing.

"Dude, lookatit!" she said, pointing at the cookie that came out of the pan looking, well, sort of like a pan. She'd already grabbed some chocolate syrup to squirt into her strange concoction. Soon enough, something that looked very much like frosting had appeared. Frank stuck her finger into it, lifting it toward her mouth. She stopped, remembering her tendency toward nibbling, then sighed, sticking her finger out toward Jeremy.

"You're gonna have to test it," she said. "'cuz if it's a good as I'm thinking it is, I'm gonna be all like 'nom, nom, nom,' and then you're gonna have to take me to the nurse and explain why it looks like I totally gnawed on my finger," sadly, this wouldn't be the first time, though it would possibly be the first such incident here at Bellefonte.