Hello to all my readers! Thank you for clicking on this story. I hope you enjoy. My goal is to put up at least two chapters a week when I am not busy. Let's see how long it takes to break 100! Please review and tell me what you think. Unfortunately, I cannot take suggestions because that would ruin the "randomly selected from the dictionary" part of this fanfic.
Here you go!
Potato (n): an oval vegetable with starchy white or yellow flesh and a brown skin, that grows underground as a tuber
Most people consider the Avengers' lives to be all action, never boring, a new excitement around every corner. That's just not true.
It was four months after the Battle of New York and the Avengers were lying around the Tower, with nothing to do. In fact, they had had nothing to do for quite a while.
Steve paused the TV halfway through another rerun of Full House.
"Do you guys hear that?"
The others nodded when the whistling started again.
After a minute of searching, Steve, Tony, and Natasha found Clint in the kitchen. He turned to greet them as they entered, then turned back to his work, whistling the main theme to Superman.
"Clint, what are you doing?" Steve asked as the archer removed a bag of potatoes from the bottom cabinet.
"Mashing potatoes. Want to help?"
"Why are you mashing potatoes?"
"Um, I don't know. Why have you been watching old shows 24/7 all week?"
"I've actually never seen Full House until today."
"Whatever floats your boat."
Tony pushed past Steve into the kitchen. "I, personally, would like to mash potatoes."
"I thought you were working on your robotic arm thing, whatever it is."
"Nah, it broke, and then I fixed it, and then it broke again. Why do you think I was watching a show I hated as a kid?"
Steve just shook his head and left.
"I'm gonna go check on Banner," Natasha said, following after Steve, leaving just Clint, Tony, and the bag of potatoes alone in the kitchen.
Half an hour later half the potatoes were peeled, cut, and boiled, ready to mash.
"I never realized how much work making mashed potatoes is." Tony commented as Clint searched for a second potato masher.
"No one ever does." He replied, opening another drawer and looking through the contents.
"Sorry, it looks like we only have one masher."
"No, no, no. I did not peel a dozen potatoes and cut my finger just to watch you have all the fun. I'm mashing."
"Tony, if I hadn't suggested it, we wouldn't even have made mashed potatoes. I appreciate the help, but I'm mashing them,
"No, I am."
"I already called it."
"No, you didn't."
"Did."
"What are you, five? You can't 'call' something."
"You both are acting like children, you know that right," Natasha rhetorically asked from the next room over, where she was playing, of all things, go fish, with Bruce.
"She's right," Clint agreed. "We'll take turns."
After arguing over who got the first turn, Tony grabbed the potato masher from Clint's hand and began mashing the large bowl of potatoes. It turned out to be harder than it looked. After three minutes, Tony handed the masher back to Clint.
"Done already?"
"No, I thought it would be nice to let you have a turn," Tony denied.
"Whatever you say."
"Hey, I'm not a wimp like you."
"Oh, really? That's why you can't mash potatoes without giving up?"
"I didn't give up! I was being nice!"
"Excuses, excuses!"
Tony picked up a handful of half-mashed potato and threw it at Clint.
"Hey!"
Clint returned the favor.
"You asked for it!" Tony cried as he grabbed two more fistfuls.
Unfortunately for him, Clint beat him to the punch. Even more unfortunately, he had impeccable aim. A blob of potato flew at Tony's open mouth.
"Does it taste good?" Clint joked as potato flew at his head. He ducked but not in time to miss round two.
Before they knew it, there was no potato in the bowl and lots of it all over their face, in their hair, and smashed on the ground. The kitchen was a disaster.
It was in this way that Pepper found them a minute later.
"What on earth!?"
"Pepper, I can explain." Tony started. "…It was Clint's fault."
Clint made a look of defense. "No, he started it!"
"You were the one who…"
Pepper started laughing. She then proceeded to pick up a blob of potato on the floor and hurl it at Tony.
"Not you too!"
"Potato!"
So there you are! One down… Ninety-nine to go. Please review / favorite / follow! Thanks in advance!