Sunday, October 9, 2011

Riddle 22

One would expect that with such an aura of happiness being exuded, we would be recklessly riding the damn bike all the way home. Hazardously endangering our lives like the stupid young kids we are. So that same one should be ashamed for assuming, as we had the surprising intelligence to wait until we had left the city before we decided to become rather suicidal, because we did in fact ride that bike.
We came to a rather loud halt, curtsey of a shiny metal trash can that we neglected to notice. Fortunately we had the soft grassy lawn to break our fall, instead of our previous cushion; Me. Despite almost many times, we were not scared but rather we laughed the whole experience off, as if it was no big deal. We got off the lawn and stumbled, not unlike a zombie, to the door. Once we were inside the house, Nazo and I collapsed on the nearest couch, my our more mature partner went somewhere else in the house. I didn't really care as my legs were practically on fire, and all I wanted was sleep.

The smell of homemade pastry was probably the only thing that could wake me up at that point, so apparently God had scheduled a flood cause he wanted at least one Noah awake, because for some currently unknown reason, the smell of cookies drifted into my nostrils. I dazedly stirred awake and glanced around, shocked that I wasn't at the bakery that the smell related to, but rather in Cheri's house. The smell was diluted, so that would explain my confusion.
In order to make sure that I still retained my sanity, I gave Nazo a little nudge. Enough of a nudge to knock him off the couch we were currently sharing. After the easily identifiable Thunk of a young blonde boy hitting the ground, a moan was sent in my direction. This was followed by a "What?..."
"Do you smell something?" He sniffed a bit before almost immediately teleporting to an upright position.
"Food." I nodded, glad that my mind was not betraying itself. We both got up before we, in unison, walked towards the kitchen. After our arrival, two jaws simultaneously hit the floor. Standing there, in all her glory, was my Watson. Her short black hair was tied back in a ponytail. She had on oven mitts with a matching apron. We apparently caught her in the act of pulling cookies out of the oven. Cheri brush a strand hair out of her face and asked "What?".
"Nothing." the two males in the room muttered. Personally everything I knew in my life was wrong, as I didn't know it was possible for Cheri to make something other than instant ramen. As I was spacing out, my partner walked up to me and flicked my forehead; hard.
"You going to stand there or are you going to get milk?" Snapped out of my gaze, I followed her orders as if I thought of them myself. Probi stayed in his jaw dropped position, until his master dragged him over to a chair and forced him to sit down.
Once the treats were out of the oven and on the table, all ready for out digestion, Nazo, the ever impatient kid, pounced like a lioness onto the unsuspecting cookies. The act of said items of consumption being shoveled into his face made my own ingestion appendage water. Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for my three-socked friend, the cookies were still incredibly hot. The flow of cookies was then reversed, and the treats now came with spittle and the added bonus of being regurgitated. While Cheri's face became one of disgust, my half smile burst into an earsplitting grin, two degrees away from the Cheshire Cat.
When Nazo was finished with his short lived bulimic phase,we decided to wait for the food to cool down to a respectable temperature.
"So, I didn't know that you were capable of making any sort of edible material outside of cup ramen, I must say that I am impressed."
"Yay I'm kinda amazing that way."
"Liar." My grin was back in full swing.
"Really now?" Cheri didn't respond with words, but rather with a mass of blood rushing to her face. I jumped off my seat and started a mass expedition in order to discover what she could possibly be covering up. Pots and pans were sent flying out of the pantries and cabinets by yours truly.
"Hey! No! Wait a sec!" She tackled me from behind, but it was all for naught, for I had already checked everything I had set out to check. Luckily for me, I managed to maintain my sense of balance, and I smoothly threw her to the ground. Once she was no longer a immediate threat, I ran over to the nearby trash can and pulled out the topmost object.
"Oh shit..." The object was a package of ready to make cookies. The tag line made me chuckle.
"To let out a quote from the package; No effort required! Delicious cookies made in moments!"
"I didn't use that!"
"Liar." Cheri, in embarrassment and annoyance, decided to reenact a move from her childhood dream job and tackled me with the force of a linebacker sacking a quarterback. Unlike the last one, this maneuver sent me cascading down. In order to keep up with the metaphor, I threw a short pass before being sacked. Due to my complete and utter lack of any athletic skill, my pass was short and a little to the left. Thankfully Nazo was a bit more skillful than myself, as he stood up and reached out to catch the package. Due to the angle of the pass, Probi had to catch it with his sock covered hand. Once his task was complete and his hand was full, an odd thing happened.
Nazo froze in place, his eyes changed into a more empty state. Then he fell back onto his seat, his stare trained on the object in his hand.
"I know this object." That was all he said before looking at Cheri and I with a confused and questioning gaze. All of us, in the perfect unison required of a top notch detective agency, asked the exact same question.
"What the hell was that?"

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