Chowder meets me!
One day at the catering company, Chowder was in his room, playing with some of his favorite fruits: a slobberry and a crybaby berry.
"Ms. Slobberry," he said, "meet Mr. Crybaby Berry."
But, the crybaby berry wasn't very well focused on the slobbery. It was more focused on crying, just like all crybaby berries are.
"Okay, why don't we play a different game?" suggested Chowder. "How about 'Ms. Slobbery and Mr. Crybaby Berry Meet Mr. Mouth?!?'"
He gobbled the two berries up in a flash.
"Oh, well. That game didn't last for long."
Suddenly, Mung Daal called him from the kitchen. Chowder rushed downstairs. In the kitchen was a black young 7-year-old girl standing by Mung. She had bags in her hand and a hat on her head that had peppermints all over it.
"Chowder, this is Mary," he introduced. "She just moved here from Peppermint City, and she wants to be a chef."
He grabbed a chef's hat out of a drawer and placed it on her head.
Chowder walked over to her. "Hi," he said enthusiastically. "It's nice to have another person in the catering company."
He looked at her brown skin.
"Are you made of chocolate?"
Mary looked confused. "No, she's not made of chocolate," Mung said, dully.
"Well, she is brown, and chocolate is brown . . . well, except for the rotten kind you sneak under your bed when it was brown before, and you eat it before your cooking master comes in and finds a toot cloud trying to make out with it."
After snapping out of the daze Chowder's words put him in, Mung finally said: "She has brown skin, Chowder."
"What's skin? Is it something you can eat?"
"No! Well, most of the time. Probably if you're something like a poultry geist."
"So, you're saying she's a poultry geist? Yummy!"
"What? No! She's a human."
"What's a human? Is it something you can eat?"
"Chowder, I'm a human! You know that!"
"Wow! Are you something I can eat?!?"
Mung sighed. His little apprentice almost always acted kind of . . . slow.
"Sorry about Chowder," he apologized to the newcomer. "He can go kinda . . . crazy about food sometimes."
Mary giggled. "It's okay. I don't mind."
Mung Daal then decided to let Mary share Chowder's room. She then unpacked her bags and observed Chowder's room. While she was making herself comfortable, Chowder came in.
"Wanna meet my pet? His name is Kimchi! He's a toot cloud!"
"Can I pet him?" Mary asked.
"I don't think you can. He is a cloud, after all."
"Oh."
"So . . . what city did you say you're from?"
"Peppermint City."
Chowder smiled. "Wow! I've heard of that place, but I've never really been there!" he said. "So, was everything made of peppermint?"
Mary smiled, too, glad at the fact that Chowder wanted to know about her home town.
"Of course not," she said.
"Are you made of peppermint?"
"Uh . . . no."
"Aww, that's too bad. You would've been a great lick-snack for dessert."
Mary again looked confused. A lick-snack? Maybe that was his word for a snack you can lick on for dessert. "I'm not trying to say you're always hungry, but . . . are you always hungry, Chowder?"
"Me? Of course not."
"So, you wouldn't be interested in hearing what kind of food I would often like to eat in Peppermint City, huh?"
"Did you say something about fooooooood?!?" Chowder's eyes grew wide as tomatoes and he had started to drool.
Mary smiled. She decided she was going to like Chowder.
After a while of explaining the food and other things involving her home town, Mary heard a knock at the catering company's door. So, she and Chowder hurried down the stairs. They found Mung opening the door to find a beaten up Schnitzel and steaming-mad Truffles.
"What happened, honey?" Mung asked his wife.
Truffles said madly: "I am NEVER going to shop with Schnitzel again!!!"
"Why?"
"Ask him!" Truffles pointed at Schnitzel before flying madly to her room.
"Radda! Radda radda radda. Radda radda radda, radda radda radda radda!" Schnitzel said, trying to clear things up.
"What do you mean you only told her that a dress she loved made her look fat in front of the whole entire store?" asked Mung. "You know Truffles is somewhat self-conscious of how she looks. And you said in front of everyone in the store? No, bad rock monster."
"Radda radda, ra-radda radda radda!"
"What do you mean you couldn't have kept your comment to yourself?" Schnitzel shrugged.
"Well, how did you get your clothes ripped and your face bruised?"
"Radda radda, ra-radda radda radda radda radda."
"What do you mean Truffles punched and cut you all the way home?"
"Well, that is what you'd expect out of someone like Truffles," Chowder said.
Finally noticing Mary, Schnitzel pointed to her and asked: "Radda, radda radda?"
"Oh, this is Mary. She wants to become a chef, like yours truly," Mung said.
Schnitzel smacked his forehead. He's tasted some of Mung's cooking before.
"Radda, radda radda radda, radda?" he asked.
"No, if she's anything like Chowder, we will not throw her down the furnace."
"Hey, in case you haven't noticed," Chowder whispered to Mary, "that's Schnitzel. He's a rock monster! But you don't have to fear him because he's not the mean kind, well, until you make him mean. Then, he's the mean kind."
Later, after Truffles calmed down, she, too, was introduced to Mary. She didn't very much approve of the idea of having a younger kid in the company, but she seemed kind of sophisticated enough to handle being in the house. After that, Chowder decided to teach her what he knew about cooking by teaching her how to make a dish. He had promised to tell her what it was called after it was done. He then placed lots of ingredients on the countertop.
"Okay, first," he said, "crack two shmeggs and put 'em in the bowl." Mary cracked two shmeggs and did what she was told.
"Next, pour three cups of milk in bowl." She did that.
"Then, put eight scoops of thrice-cream in there. Stir the mixture.
"Finally, add crybaby berries and slobberries, flutternut tarts, and bluenanas, stir them into the mixture, and bake it for one hour in the oven."
Chowder set the timer, and Mary put the mixture in the oven. After an hour of waiting while playing the card game of Go Eat, (parody of Go Fish,) Chowder and Mary heard the timer ring and came back to the kitchen, and Mary took the mixture out of the oven. It was in the form of a lumpy pink pudding.
"Okay," she said. "So, what did I make?"
"Taste it and see," was Chowder's answer.
Mary took a spoon and tasted the dish. It tasted . . . kind of weird. "Well, I still don't know what it is."
"Really?" asked Chowder, "Because I don't actually know, either. I just wanted something to eat. Now, let's dig in!!!"
Mary smiled and rolled her eyes. Chowder is forever hungry, she thought. Before she could take another bite, he picked the bowl up, held it directly over his mouth, turned it over, and let the dish slide out of the bowl and into his mouth.
"Delicious!"
"But, what about my part of the dish?" Mary asked.
"Oh," said Chowder, with his mouth covered with pink. He picked up the spoon that Mary used earlier. It still had a little bit of the dish on it.
"Here!" he said, handing her the spoon.
"Wow. This is . . . enough for me," Mary said sarcastically, eyeing the little spot of pink goop left on the spoon. She then licked it off.
After eating, they decided to go on a walk around Marzipan City. Chowder was showing Mary all of his most favorite places.
". . . And this is my FAVORITEST place on earth!" He pointed to a not-so-tall building.
Mary squinted at the top of the building to see its name. "'Bertolli's All-you-can-eat Buffet?'"
"Of course!!" Chowder yelled. "It's the best place to satisfy your hunger REAL quick!"
"But, I'm not hungry right now."
"Well, I am!"
"After that entire pink dish you ate, you're not full?"
"Girl, you crazy! The Chow-man's never full!"
With that, Chowder grabbed Mary's hand and pulled her into the restaurant.
Later, while walking out of the restaurant, Chowder, while rubbing his now dragging-on-the-ground and hurting stomach, said roughly: "Ugh, I guess the Chow-man can get full. Really full."
Mary said: "I still don't get how you could manage to eat 150 giant steaks!"
"I still don't know how that managed to get me this full," he said in response.
Suddenly, some cheery music played behind them. They turned around, to find the thrice-cream man holding his cart full of, well, thrice-cream.
Chowder, suddenly feeling better, yelled: "THRICE-CREAM!!!" and asked the man for a 30-scoop chocolate-flavored cone. He soon received it.
"Now, how are you going to eat all of . . ." Mary started.
He enlarged his mouth, dropped the thrice-cream cone in, and swallowed it in one single bite.
". . . that?" Mary finished dully.
Finally, the sun was staring to set. Chowder and Mary were on their way back to the catering company. Suddenly, Chowder stopped walking.
"What's wrong," Mary asked, stopping as well.
He rubbed his stomach. "I don't feel so good," he said. And without warning, he closed his eyes tightly and let out a huge fart.
"Ahh, much better," he said, relieved.
"Eww, gross!" said Mary, disgusted.
Chowder giggled. "Sorry. You've gotta do what'cha gotta do, right?"
Mary did a small smile. "I guess."
They continued to walk home after that. Finally, they reached the catering company. They opened the door to a worried Mung.
"Oh, there you two are," he said, getting relieved. "I've been wondering where you were."
"Oh," said Chowder. "We were just taking a walk around Marzipan City. I was showing Mary my favorite places."
"Well, I hope you didn't just show her restaurants."
"Of course I didn't. I showed her the grocery store, Gazpacho's food stand, even though he wasn't there for long because his mother wanted him to go home and clip her toenails, the police station, Carlito Con Quesos, and more!" ("Carlito Con Quesos" was a place where Chowder loved to eat and play games.)
"Yeah," Mary said. "I never knew Marzipan City was so cool!"
"Well, I'm glad you two had a great time, but next time, please tell me where and that you're going somewhere," Mung warned.
"Sure thing, Papa," Chowder assured.
Soon enough, Mary and Chowder were in their pajamas and almost ready for bed. They were in the bathroom, brushing their teeth.
"Chowder, you're supposed to brush your teeth with the toothpaste, not put it on your toothbrush and eat it," Mary said, watching Chowder almost devour his toothbrush, which was filled with a whole lot of cherry toothpaste on the bristles.
"Oh," Chowder said. "No wonder my teeth never seemed to get clean the way Mung said they would after I brush them."
After Mary's tooth-brushing lesson, she and Chowder were ready to travel to dreamland. Mary slept in her sleeping bag while Chowder slept in his bed. He then cut the lights off.
"Well, good night, Chowder," Mary said, sleepily getting into her sleeping bag.
"Good night to you, too, Mary," Chowder said, getting into his bed.
"Pttt, ptttt," Kimchi said, which sounded similar to farting.
"What was that?" asked Mary.
"Oh, that was just Kimchi's way of saying good night," Chowder yawned.
"Oh," was the only response Mary could give before falling asleep.
This is my first Chowder story, and I'm wondering how I did and whether or not I should write a second chapter. So, please comment and answer!
(Info: shmeggs = eggs, slobberries = strawberries, crybaby berries = made-up berries, flutternut tarts = butternut tarts, bluenanas = bananas, and thrice-cream = ice-cream.)