askthegreenguys:

bonkakira-and-friends:

As Bowyetta lost composure, the hand returned and pushed the window
open. This time, however, it seemed to be attempting to forcefuly push
something in. Something colorful and plastic. Eventually, the object
flopped onto the wooden floor with a sudden thump. An inflatable kiddie
pool? The pale, long, disembodied arm returned once more, this time with
a plastic drinking hose. It snaked to the bottom of the makeshift pool,
coming to a stop once secured. There was a faint creaking sound
followed by clean flowing water that filled the bottom. The hand
beckoned to Bowyetta, though it didn’t seem like she could see anything.
Maybe she was panicking. It tapped a violet painted nail in thought
before eventually snapping in realization. It swiped the blackboard from
the counter, faint scribbles heard on the other side. When it came
back, there was a message written in big letters for the robot girl.
Unlike the others this was adorned with hearts and sparkles, maybe even a
crude puppy doodle of some kind.

//Bowyetta you’re doing great! Don’t worry about everyone else and cook. I love omurice!//

The hand began banging loudly on the counter before sinking back to where it came from.

“Hang on. If this is a contest why are you helping her?”

//Don’t take your eyes off the bowl you’re gonna scramble the eggs! Keep whisking!//

“At least let me catch my brea–”

“WAH!”

As
Link continued to cause a scene and cry out in distress, progress was
being made much against the boy’s will. Step by step, leeks were being
chopped, mushrooms diced, bacon fried, cheeses grated, and herbs minced.
Eventually, the little hero was looking at board of that, despite the
chaos of it all, was neatly wiped clean of any stray bits of food and
had been organized into neat piles. Not too far off was a gold colored
liquid that had been thickened enough to stick lightly onto even the
metal bowl. His hands moved on his own as he took a pinch of herbs, a
generous amount of cheese, salt, and a splash of cream. Link wasn’t used
to the vigorous movement, and he felt like his arms were going to pop
off at the joints as he whisked like never before. Eventually he raised
up the whisk, watching as the sauce came down a thick, steady ribbon.
Setting down the bowl, Link hurried to the drawers and began digging
around for something to cool this off in. There was an underused cake
pan. Perfect.

The little hero skid to a stop in front of the table
and slammed the pan down in front of him. There was a pause, and a
rather long one as the boy felt he had gained control of his body once
more.

“Oh goddesses have mercy on me… What– What happened why did you stop?”

//I forgot you don’t have a fridge.//

“I–What?”

//Nothing just… We have to get this cold and solid. And asap.//

“Cold huh? Will an ice rod work.”

//If you ruin this I swear I’ll make your life hell//

“Geez take it easy! I’m not gonna drop this!”

The
little hero swung his ice rod in an arc, sending a chilling blast to
the pan. Though he was careful with his movements and force this time.
Judging by how his body was being forced and pushed to move this fast he
was terrified of what others were in store if something went wrong. The
sauce solidified as the temperature rapidly dropped, eventually
becoming dense enough to cut.

//Okay back to work. Hurry before the espuma melts!//

The
little hero let out a surprised yelp as his body was being flung wildly
around the small kitchen. He began beating the whites rapidly until
they began to get foamy and pale.

“My wrist my wrist my wrist my wrist my wrist– What are we even making you haven’t told me yet!”

//Magic//

Bowyetta took a moment to look over at Red. “B-Bowyetta cannot be calming down!” She stammered.  “How you are that much done already?! Bowyetta has not even cooked her rice yet and- EEEK!”

Bowyetta jumped at the sudden noise, very nearly spilling rice everywhere. Her eyes darted around the room, and she was about to fire an arrow in the noise’s direction, when suddenly she caught sight of the blackboard. Her eyes widened, and she put the arrow down on the counter. “T-This is really being for Bowyetta?” She didn’t know where it had come from, but she was happy someone was cheering for her.

Vinny gave a quick tug on Bowyetta’s hair to get her attention. “Look at this, Bowyetta~! Whoever it was, it looks like they brought you some water for your rice~!” The arrows picked up the hose, and siphoned some of the water from the pool into Bowyetta’s pot.

Bowyetta struck an arrow on her body, and carefully place him under the pot. “Please to be staying there while the rice is cooking,” she instructed him, before picking up her knife to chop the onions. As she did so, a couple of arrows had already broken two eggs into a bowl, and took spoon into their mouths to beat them.

Vinny now noticed Link’s screaming, and realized that might have been what caused Bowyetta’s panic before. He reached into Bowyetta’s hair and produced what appeared to be a radio. “Excuse me, Miss Eclair~!” he called upward. “Would you mind if I put on some music~? I think Bowyetta might have though Mr. Link was in danger, and it might help keep her calm…”

The ghost heroes stared at the chaos unfolding in the kitchen with varied expressions. Time’s was deadpan, as if he were watching an average person walking down the road. But, he had seen and experienced nearly everything imaginable by that point, so he was rather hard to surprise. Most of the others had more puzzled or baffled expressions, however. 

Meanwhile outside, Twilight was happily roasting the chiles away above the flames. His other vegetables were already diced and ready to cook, and the brisket and cheese were shredded. He hummed happily to himself, making sure to keep himself as quiet as possible so as to not attract attention to Brown’s illusion. Were a person to stand by the road in front of Art’s house, they would see only his front wall and door. Brown had projected a picture of the scene onto a magical three-sided wall that left a good ten feet between it and Art’s actual house. The brunet hero was also standing guard just behind the wall, just in case he needed to use a subtle spell to influence any passerby to continue walking. Or perhaps he was just enjoying the smell of roasted chiles.

Twilight turned the chiles over to roast the other side. He wanted the skin browned and puckering. Luckily for him, as a shade he really couldn’t feel pain or be injured, so he could turn the chiles with his bare hands. Which was great, because Mini hadn’t brought him tongs or something similar. Luckily for whoever was judging, though he looked like a corpse with glowing eyes, he was more accurately a magical construct with a frightening form and therefore had no germs or other nasty things on his hands. He continued this for about another ten minutes, then removed them from the fire and started to clean them. 

Once again, he was lucky he couldn’t feel pain. Capsaicin was not pleasant stuff to have all over your hands, but there wasn’t really a better way to remove the skin, stems, and seeds from all the chiles. He quickly cut up the jalapeños and chiles into short strips, then separated about a third of all the vegetables into a separate pile. He looked around his setup, then huffed slightly. If he had had lips, he would have pursed them in annoyance. Getting up from the ground, he went to the door and opened it, sticking his head inside the house. He stared momentarily at the other two shrieking chefs before raising his voice to ask anyone who would listen “Is there any chance Art has some bacon grease in his kitchen? Or cooking oil I guess? I’d even settle for butter.”

The Repairman found that a lot of issues were happening in a familiar universe. As he hauled his cart over there, humming “Turkey in the Straw”, he was shocked to find that familiar people were involved, too. Including a couple of real people…
Oh, no. No. Not again. No. He was not going to be part of someone’s sick little game this time.
But he did have a job to do, and it looked like he was going to have a crisis on his hands if he didn’t take care of it soon…
He just hoped he could skirt by all these apparently confused, frantic and scared friends of his without being noticed. He’d see if he could help with recovery.
As he slowly moved past them, he failed to notice one of the wheels of his cart squeaking…