Another chapter here. I'll finish this story as soon as I can so I can move on.
In his schoolroom, Lewis sat in the front of the class. He noticed the the same people who had randomly took him to the storeroom: the mat, the teapot, the stickman, and of course the watermelon. It was as if they pretended that they never met him. Lewis looked over at them. The mat smiled back while the teapot glared at him.
Miss Simian tapped a pointer on the board to get their attention. "…this here is called the Cochlea and…"
Unfortunately it was biology, and Miss Simian was teaching their class for the time being. She seemed to not care about Lewis (or maybe didn't notice his sudden appearance or the fact that he was new, he thought). Then Lewis felt a thump against his head. It was a crumpled note.
"…the hammer, anvil..."
Opening it, it said inside "Meet us lunchtime. Don't forget to bring what we asked for." He shrugged, nonchalantly crumpled it, and threw it away only to find Miss Simian staring at him so hard that he suddenly felt so warm, and conscious.
"So! Um…what's your name?"
"Lewis."
"Lewis! Would you care to explain what a Cochlea is?"
Dumbfounded, the liger tried to improvise. He looked at the drawings in the blackboard.
"Its a snail…looking part of the head with the hammer and an anvil?"
Miss Simian stared at him so hard his pencils started to pop.
"Pop quiz!"
At lunchtime, Lewis sat this time beside Hot Dog Guy, Ocho and The Mushroom. He now had time to inspect the envelope. With a ginger paw, he opened it an unfolded a small piece of paper only see a very short list of items.
He muttered to himself. "Really? Just all these? This seems like a piece of cake."
The list was: flour, eggs, sugar, baking soda, and chocolate.
"Or literally a whole cake. Are they gonna bake a cake or something?"
The liger played with these thoughts, and considerations for a while. His first day, and some people had dragged him to a storage room demanding cake? It didn't make any sense to him. But since this was Elmore, he had expected something like that to happen anytime soon. He scouted the tables, and once again saw the same four in the table where they had sat the first time he laid eyes on them. They all watched him like a cat watching a beetle. It was a bit disturbing.
The liger mumbled to himself. "Whatever, I'll just play along with their game. So where to get those ingredients…"
All of a sudden Gumball and Darwin walked through the cafeteria doors carrying bags of flour, sugar, eggs, chocolate and baking soda.
'Perfect!' Lewis thought. His lunch finished, he proceeded to walk over to the Watterson brothers.
"Hey there! Could I have some of those?"
Gumball and Darwin were obviously struggling from the weight one could see their eye's vein's veins. In response to his question, they readily dumped their bags on his awaiting hands only to squish him whole.
Gumball sighed heavily in relief. "Thanks so much…uh whatever your name is! Oh man! I think I carried so much load my eyes grew muscles. Check this out."
Without much effort, Gumball's eyes grew muscles with muscles on them. Then his eyes picked up a table, and smashed it with ease. Darwin looked over at the liger who they had unknowingly crushed.
"I think we squished him."
"Nah, he's totally fine. Otherwise he wouldn't have volunteered so kindly."
"hulp mu!" The liger's muffled voice said under the heavy bags.
Gumball smiled. "No good sir, we should be the ones thanking you! Oh by the way, these are supposed to go to the kitchen. Thanks!"
And so they left him under the pile of bags.
It took almost a quarter of an hour before Lewis could shrug off the weight above him. Then it took more than another quarter of an hour (perhaps half a hour) to carry them all at the same time to their destination.
"Finally!"
The liger had spent much of his free time in lunch dragging the sacks of flour to the four in their table. As he approached them, the mat suddenly swooped down and took the load off of the liger's shoulders. Then the load (proving too much for the doormat to handle) had squished him flat. The other two stared at him as if he had just committed a crime. The watermelon looked around as if suspecting a spy somewhere.
Lewis rubbed his back. "Well, I did as asked. Can you at least tell-"
In an instant, he was whisked into the same storage room. He was flanked by the four. The watermelon spoke up again.
"So you have passed our first test. Very very…virtuoso."
The watermelon put a hand on his chin (or at least where it would have been).
Lewis cleared his throat. "Are you gonna bake a cake or something? You could have bought one you know."
The doormat, stickman and teacup only nodded.
"Yes but uh-" *cough* "We don't have any-" *cough* "Money erm…now, since you have accomplished our task without attracting much attention I guess we can trust you." The watermelon said.
"Sure, but how can I trust YOU?" Lewis replied.
"In time you will. Also we apologize for randomly dragging you here all the time, but you see…" The watermelon leaned in closer and whispered to the liger. "We just wanted to bake a cake in secret."
"Why so secretive?"
The doormat spoke up. "Because if you say the word 'cake' there's a chance that someone will go berserk for cake."
"Yeah and we've been saying 'cake' a lot of times. I don't see anyone going berserk anywhere."
"Oh I just enjoy the scent of pepper and thyme during the time when the sun is at its peak."
Mr. Small, the school counselor took in the scent of the cafeteria's herbs, and exhaled with delight. He was standing near the storage room, when suddenly he heard the word 'cake' echo from it. At that moment, all his sanity had vanished.
"DID SOMEONE SAY CAKE!?"
As if he was possessed, he dove into the cafeteria thrashing and upsetting bundles of pots and pans. Without a second thought, he grabbed a ladle and kept swinging it like an axe and bashing stuff. He looked around, but found no cake. That was when he went berserk, his pupils growing larger and his mouth drooling for cake. Rocky barely escaped the madman, while students stared at him in terror.
"WHERE'S THE CAKE!? THE CAKE IS A LIE!"
In a frenzy, Mr. Small hacked the neighboring wall to dust and dirt then fled outside to the school, shouting while spreading chaos and destruction wherever he went. Thinking Anton was a cake, he gobbled up the poor student before roaring across the school.
The doormat laughed heartily. "Just kidding! The cake is a secret since we're baking it for someone. It'll be a surprise!"
"And we needed another guy to help us with the cake." The teapot clinked.
Last time Lewis counted them all, there were four of them. "But aren't four people more than enough for one cake?"
The mat did a cheerful flip. "The more, the better! Just not too much though."
"You've been very helpful, especially in bringing us those ingredients. We still need a few things like a cake pan" The watermelon remarked.
"Cake pan?" Lewis asked.
The teapot replied. "Well duh, for the cake."
Now that Lewis thought about it, 'cake pan' reversed was 'pan cake'. "So I'm like the errand boy now?"
"Not really…well sort of. But you're not gonna be doing everything. Walter's going to bake the cake, I'll be the one combining the ingredients, Ronald will be decorating it and Sticky will be like the 'flavor' chef." The doormat replied.
"Okay. Fair enough…but if we're working together can't you at least introduce yourselves?"
"Hehe right! Silly us. I'm Matt which is kind of obvious since I'm a mat-"
"Sticky Dominic Planesfield, nice to meet you." The stickman shook Lewis' hand.
"I'm Walter." The watermelon smiled.
Then the teapot did a little spin. "And I'm Clayton!"
"He's Ronald." Matt corrected.
"No. What's so wrong about calling me by my middle name?"
Lewis smiled shyly. Perhaps they were willing to be friends? "I-I'm Lewis."
They all nodded in approval.
"Great! Now Lewis, we're counting on you to get the cake pan. We'll be waiting for you here in this room."
Once again, another chapter finished! So, a cake, and Mr. Small going berserk for it? Might be wondering why? Well, all will be revealed soon, maybe in the next chapter. Meanwhile, post your reviews.
