literature

FMA - The Souffle Disaster

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Literature Text

(Note: This fic is pure crack and slash free!)

Dolcetto woke to a floating head, whispering forcefully in his face. A head framed with short, blonde hair and marked with a green tattoo, slithering up its cheek.

"Hey, Fido. Wake up."

"Don't call me that." He sat up, scratching his head as Martel drew her head back in closer to her shoulders. "And you shouldn't stretch your neck like that. One of these days, it's gonna get stuck." He grinned. "And then you'd look pretty stupid."

"Not as stupid as you look right now. And be quiet! You're going to wake everybody up." She took a cook book out from behind her back. "Come on. Today, we're gonna do it for real."

Dolcetto groaned. "Not that again. C'mon, Boss can eat takeout just like the rest of us."

"After all he's done for us? We've got to at least try to do something. We have no cash, very few talents, and a kitchen that once outfitted this place. We don't have any perishable stuff, but I think we can nick that easy enough."

"Something in that idea is twisted," Dolcetto said, rolling his eyes and finally getting out of bed. Martel stood from where she was crouched at the foot of it, carefully sneaking back out without waking Greed, Kimblee, Bido, or Roa. "Now, what exactly were you planning on trying to make?" he asked as soon as they had left the room.

"I dunno." Martel flipped through the book. "None of these look too hard."

"Well, it's hard to steal veggies and meat and stuff, so look at the baking section." Dolcetto grabbed the book, holding it up close to his face. "What's a pecan?"

"Give it back." Her hand snaked its way up the spine of the book, snatching it back. "What about a souffle? That looks easy enough."

Dolcetto scratched the back of his neck. "I thought those were supposed to be super-hard."

"They can't be that hard! They just look like a little cake thing." She looked over the ingredients. "Okay, so today I'll go out and get butter, milk, and eggs. You go through the pantry and look for sugar, vanilla, and flour. We can go from there."

"Alright. But won't Boss wake up and catch us before we can finish?"

"I doubt it. Boss has never, ever gotten up earlier than eleven."

"Wait. What time is it now!?"

"Four thirty, give or take."

"Four thirty!? In the morning?" Dolcetto's jaw dropped. "You're kidding." Martel ignored him, thrusting the book back into his arms.

"I'll be back soon. Look for the other stuff, right now." She slipped up the stairs and was out of sight before Dolcetto could protest. He sighed, looking down at the ingredients skeptically.

"Four in the morning. Honestly." He slouched, dragging himself up the stairs after her. "I don't even think I've been in the kitchen since we came here." He stopped, sniffing the air as he neared the top step. The kitchen door loomed in front of him, right across from the stairwell. "...Maybe it won't be so bad. At least if we get some." He sniffed again, opening the door. "Alright. I'll try to cooperate here. She's kind of right, anyhow. What's a little souffle thing compared to all the stuff we have now?"

A shoe flew at him from the front entrance. "Be quiet! You wanna wake everyone up?"

+  +  +

"Alright, I found everything here. And I cleaned out the oven, because it looked really gross. But I still don't see how two people who have never baked anything in their lives are going to make this thing."

"Come on. We can handle a silly thing like this." Martel looked down at the cook book, setting the eggs she'd been carrying over her head on the counter. From the legs of her cargo pants she pulled a small carton of milk and two sticks of butter. Dolcetto stared as she rolled her pants back down to her ankles.

"Something tells me you've done this before."

"I was kind of a klepto when I was a kid," she admitted. "I guess it explains a lot." She peered over the instructions. "So first, we have to preheat the oven..."

"What? No. We can't do that yet. We haven't done anything else!" Dolcetto scowled, pushing her aside to look at the book.

"That's why it's called PRE-heating, Dog Breath." She reclaimed her position in front of the counter. "So go preheat it to 350."

"Farenheit?"

"Yes, Farenheit, unless you want to catch something on fire." Martel took some of the ingredients and dumped them into a bowl. "I think I'm doing this right..."

Dolcetto squinted at the dials on the oven. "I think this is how you do it..." He turned the oven to 'Bake', then proceeded to turn the dial as high as it would go. "That aught to work. 350 is pretty hot, right?"

"Well, yeah. It's not like it gets 350 degrees outside, right?" Martel mixed all of the perishable stuff together with a fork. "Let's see. Then I think we put the flour in with all of it. Then we stick it in the oven."

"What about the sugar?"

"Oh yeah, put that in, too." Martel dumped flour into the bowl as Dolcetto sprinkled sugar over the mixture. "Are we good now?"

"I don't think so," Dolcetto shook his head. "We still need vanilla."

"Oh! Right!" Martel grabbed the small bottle off the counter and emptied it into the bowl. "Okay, NOW we're ready. Is the oven hot?"

"How should I know?"

"Is the little light thingy turned off?"

"Uhh..." Dolcetto leaned in close to the oven. "Oh, wow, it's hot over here. Uh, yeah, it's off."

"Are you sure? I don't trust you. Aren't dogs supposed to be colorblind?" Martel pushed him out of the way.

"I'm not colorblind!" Dolcetto protested.

"Oh yeah? What color is my tattoo?" She raised an eyebrow. Dolcetto stared at it, snaking down her neck and shoulder.

"...Red? No, green... No, red. Is it red? Or is it green?"

She sighed, taking the unmixed bowl and sticking it in the oven.

"Weren't we supposed to mix that together first?" Dolcetto asked, sitting back on his haunches in front of the oven door.

"Nah. I think it'll come out either way. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?" Martel hoisted herself up to sit on the counter, swinging her legs over the edge while the two chimeras stared at the oven.

"Isn't there some saying that says a watched cake never bakes?"

"This is a souffle."

"Same thing."

"No, it's not."

+  +  +

Dolcetto sniffed, opening his eyes. "What's that burning smell?" He felt his face blanch. "Oh, damn! I fell asleep!" He whirled around, yelping as he saw Martel sleeping on the counter. "Martel! Wake up! The cake thingy is burning!"

"Eh?" She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "What are you talking abo- OH DAMN IT!" Launching herself off the counter and in front of the oven, she grabbed the door and thrust it open as Dolcetto grabbed the scorching pan.

All was silent for a few moments, before the inevitable howl of pain.

"Hey, dumbass, it's hot." Martel rolled her eyes, grabbing an oven mitt from the shelf above the oven and putting the pan on the unused burners. "Hm. It doesn't look... that bad."

Dolcetto peered over from where he'd been wringing his hand in agony. "Bad?" The souffle was nearly blackened, with clumps of butter and flour spilling over the sides. A strange, eraser-like smell wafted from the pan. "Why does it smell like rubber?"

Martel grimaced. "Alright. Run your hand under the water first. Then we can try again... Wait, what time is it?"

The door suddenly opened, a groggy Greed stepping through, smoothing his hair back. "Do we still have any..." He trailed off, his eyes traveling from Dolcetto's shining red hand to Martel's flour-coated face to their baking monstrosity and back again. "...What happened in here"

"We...." Martel grabbed the pan with her mitted hand and presented it to Greed with a flourish. "We made you something!"

He raised an eyebrow. "...Something?"

"Yeah! It's... uh... kind of a cake. And kind of a souffle. It's a--"

"A soufflake!" Dolcetto offered.

"That's it!"

Greed blinked, and poked the unidentified baked object with a hesitant finger before turning back towards the door. "I'm going back to bed."

As the door slammed behind him, Martel looked back at Dolcetto.

"Let's just go downtown and get something already made, shall we?"

"That's a great idea."
Uh. Yeah. So it isn't my best writing. XD But I wrote this for pure fun.

Martel and Dolcetto want to pay Greed back for all the things he's done for them by baking him a cake. Or a souffle. Or a soufflake.

The colorblind thing was me poking fun at how Martel's tattoo is green in Brotherhood, but red in the 2003 anime.

Dolcetto getting his hand burned is an inside joke involving Laura and an unfortunate batch of gingerbread men.
© 2010 - 2024 Kellatrix
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Trafalgarlawfangirl's avatar
XD I think Greed was very wise in going back to bed!