If you enjoy this story, you may also like my other Maximum Ride prank in my other story: Randomness

Hello, Max Ride here again. It's been about a year now since my last entry. We, the flock, have been living here with my Mom and nothing has happened. That means no Fly Boys, no Pexi-Glass People, nobody except us!

I love it! It's great!

I still can't cook. BUT I can make a mean grilled cheese sandwich. This begins my little entry:

Yesterday, Gasman and Iggy had decided to try tinkering with something other than bombs. They said something about hand-suction-cup-thingies, but my stomach was growling so I left mid-sentence.

I turned the stove top on LOW heat to get the pan warm. I went over to the fridge and grabbed the bread, butter and cheese. I only had a bit more than half a loaf left but I'd make due.

Outside I could see Nudge and Angel mock-fighting and I knew that any minute now, they would come and complain that they are hungry, but at least they wouldn't be complaining to me because I can't cook…except for grilled cheese.

I watched Angel pin Nudge on the ground as Nudge tried to elbow her in the face.

They are just so friggen' cute sometimes!

I plastered the thick fattening butter onto the first piece of bread and threw it on the pan with a loud sizzle. I stacked five piece of cheese of the browning bread and then finished it with the top slab. I flipped it back and forth wishing it would just finish cooking already! The delicious aromas taunted me. I turned the heat to HIGH, which you're not really supposed to do, but I think the 'Cookbook Police' will let it slide.

"Gah!" I gasped as two strong arms wrapped around my small waist. "Fang!" I scolded.

"What 'cha cooking?" he asked as he swayed us back and forth.

"Sandwich. Mine." I turned around and kissed him. Ig and Gazzy were upstairs and the two girls were outside with Total so…

"Oh crap," murmured Fang as he broke our kiss (which must've lasted longer than I thought). He took the pan, which now had a shriveled, blackened shadow of a sandwich in the middle of the black iron.

"Well, no use going to waste," Fang said as he grabbed the black lump with a paper towel and shoved it into his mouth.

"I'll just make another one," I said still in a blissful mood from out quick make-out session.

I made another one raw and put it on the stove to toast. Fang pulled me into another embrace. "Mmmm," I mumbled, "I made a good sandwich" as our kiss became deeper.

The front door opened.

We together ran into the living room and dove behind the couch.

"Hey, who's is this?" Nudge asked as I heard her footsteps echo on the kitchen linoleum.

"I don't know. Wanna share it?" Angel asked.

I was about to yell "NOO!" but I really liked being in Fangs arms, us hiding…

I heard the door slam closed.

To my dismay, when I got back to the stove, my meal was yet again, gone.

Now I started to get mad. But they didn't know so…

For the third time, I put bread and cheese together and placed it on the now dirty pan. This sandwich was a lot messier than the others, but now I was getting desperate for food.

I decided to make two because the longer I smelled the melting butter and burning bread, the hungrier I got…I was ravenous at this point.

Fang left somewhere during the time I was scraping out the last remains of butter out of the container that nobody told me was 75% empty!

I pulled out a wooden chair so I could just sit for a second; yet keep an eye on my lunch. I closed my eyes for a few seconds. I swear I heard something like the faucet dripping, but when I checked, it was totally dry.

I turned back to my chair. I noticed something; I didn't smell any butter cooking. Either my sandwich spontaneously combusted or…

I sprang up and peered into the pan.

Nothing…

Nothing…

Nothing except for a note on the side of the stove top in Gazzy's chicken scratch which said: Ig says that he wants tomatoes on his next time.

~Gaz and Ig

P.S. We perfected our suction cup ceiling climbers! We just had our first test-run!

I crumpled the note in my hands. I swear steam was radiating from my head.

One second. For one second my back was turned and they stole my food with their dammed ceiling climbers!!!!!!!! GAH!!!!!!! The suction cups on the flat ceiling made the wet popping noise that I thought was the fricken' faucet!

I stomped to the stairs about to run up and grab them back, but they probably already inhaled them. I did go to the bottom of the stairs and yell up, "FYI, I never washed my hands!"

Gagging sounds filled the stairway. I smiled and walked off.

I took a long, relaxing breath in and out and turned back to the stove. Everyone was fed (except me) so now I could cook in peace.

Once again, I turned the stove top on LOW, and then I reached for my bread.

Oh.

My.

Friggen'.

Gowd.

We were out of bread…

I finished the day screaming my head off at everybody and forced the 'Tinkerers' to go shopping then make me a sandwich. Iggy is a much better cook than I am anyways…

Today, I hired a guy to popcorn the ceiling.

Hee-hee.

~Max.

R&R!!!

Hop you enjoyed my little crack fic!

I think this will just be a one-shot, but that could always change depending on how much extra time I have.

But I will put this as 'Complete' for now.

***For those who don't what a popcorn ceiling is, it's a ceiling that has those bumps on it.