"Welcome to 'Let's Bake!' the show where we pick four random contestants off the street to compete against each other for $20,000! And all they have to do is bake!" called the cheery show host to the camera. "Let's meet our contestants. First, meet Carla O'Conners! Next we have Matthew Rogers and Beletrix Lestrange. Last but not least, meet Tony Smith!"
When they heard his name, the audience behind the camera started cheering and whistling. Tony grinned at the crowd. "I love you, Tony!" screeched a teenage girl from somewhere in the rows of seats.
"Wow, Tony. Seems you have a lot of fans!" the show host said. "What do you do for a living that makes you so famous?"
"I'm just awesome." He shrugged.
"...okay! Let's get back to the show!" The announcer's fake cheer was back. "Here's how you play..."
Beletrix examined her fingernails while the host explained the rules. Rules. Who needed them? They were only there to slash away your freedom. Beletrix didn't even know what she had agreed to be on this show. Like she needed 20,000... dollars. Her vault at gringotts was full to the brim. And, she wasn't one to bake. Maybe it was just the competition of it all. She did love competition.
"Ninety minutes on the clock. Go! Let the best baker win!"
Beletrix drifted over to the kitchen assigned to her. She had never used a kitchen before. This will be an interesting experience, she thought to herself. As the other contestants bustled around their kitchens, clanking pans and making a ruckus, Beletrix examined the cookware. It was all so new to her. She picked up a knife. At least I know what this is. She spotted another shiny utensil. A fly swatter. Good call.
"Sixty minutes left!" called the show host. The other contestants started to rush around even more, dropping stuff and making noise, all except Tony Smith. He took a steaming cake out of the oven while he waved to his adoring, screaming fans.
Beletrix looked up. She was here, anyway. Might as well have some fun. Some mischievous fun. But what to bake? As she looked around at her competition, the word 'pie' floated through her head. Pie. She had never eaten a pie, but she knew what it was supposed to look like. Yes, she would bake a pie. Of sorts.