Thanksgiving
"Hey, Thanksgiving's today, guys!"
A shuffle of paper, "And?"
"What do you mean 'And?' it's Thanksgiving, we should do something."
Another shuffle of paper, "And?"
A closing shut of a book, "Don't knock Trish, Dante, we should do something."
A very reluctant sigh, "I don't see why we should, we did something last year."
Lady trained her russet-teal eyes on the red-clad Devil Hunter, "Dante," she started, sounding highly exasperated, "We were demon hunting last year. That's highly un-Thanksgiving…ish."
"Yeah, well, the Indians hunted down a turkey didn't they?" Meeting Lady's bored expression, he sighed, "So what? We did something the year before that, didn't we?"
"Demon hunting." Trish answered.
"Okay then. The year before that one?"
"…"
"Demon hunting. Of course. Why'd I even ask?" He mumbled to himself.
"The point is, Dante," The ebony haired huntress started, "We should do something this year that's not demon related. Nobody's calling in anyways."
"No, there was a call, Verge just took it." Dante put away the weapon magazine he was reading, already knowing he was going to lose this battle, "Probably knew something like this was gonna happen. Smart bastard." He shook his head, "So, enlighten me, babe, what're we doin' this year?"
Dante turned the question to Lady, who in turn turned to Trish, the main cause of the whole argument. The blond, in turn, answered, "Cook?" It was more a question than anything, though.
Dante, for the record scoffed, but Lady, instead, thought it a good idea and agreed, which sent Dante to scoff again. That in itself was enough to start another argument.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?' she asked, aggravated.
He flinched and responded hurriedly. "Nothing. It's just that…" he trailed off, not sure how to finish.
"Just what, Dante? You trying to say I can't cook?"
"…"
"Dante!"
"Well, from what you fed me, it kinda gave me that idea."
"Hey!"
Another flinch, "Listen, it's not all that bad." He went to assure her, "Not everyone has the skills, and babe, you just happen to fit into the 'not everyone' category. Unlike me, of course."
"Oh-ho," Lady laughed, looking quite amused now, "And this coming from a man who burns water?"
Before he could respond to the insult a new voice cut in, "You burned water, Old Man?"
"Shut it, Kid, I was highly distracted at the time!" He glanced pointedly at Lady, who in turn, glanced pointedly away.
"Distracted or no, you shouldn't be able to burn water, Dante." Trish cut in.
"Yeah, well, what can I say," Dante shrugged, "I make the impossible possible."
"Yeah, and I guess burning water's now on that list." Nero laughed.
"Quiet, Kid!"
"Okay, so we're cooking. What're we making and who's making what?" Lady interrupted before things got violent.
The half-devil got up from his usual spot located at his desk and let out a languid stretch. "Well one thing's for certain, you're not making anything."
"Excuse me?" She turned a vehement glare to him.
"You heard me, babe," He met her gaze evenly; "Just leave the cooking to the pro."
"Alright, that's it, jackass!" She exclaimed jumping out of her spot on the living room sofa, "Looks like I'm going to have to put you in your place."
"Are you challenging me, Lady?" he asked while crossing his arms over his well built chest.
"Damn straight." She retorted, mirroring his pose.
"Loser washes dishes."
"Fine."
"For a month."
She shrugged and countered, "Your hands."
They continued that way while the other two occupants of the room looked on, not sure what to do or say at the moment.
Finally, after what seemed more or less like an hour of sizing each other up, the two acted at the same time, grabbing their jackets off the coat rack (in which Dante made things more difficult for her by knocking hers to the floor) and heading to the door (wherein Lady made things more complex by tripping him on the way there…twice) and stopping to call on their partners in crime.
"Wait, what?" The she-devil asked, getting up from her comfortable perch on the same sofa Lady had been on anyway, "Why do I have to go?"
"Because you're the cause of this mess." Lady retorted without missing a beat. And with that motive, Trish had no choice than to comply.
Nero on the other hand, was a different case entirely, and didn't plan on going anywhere or doing anything with the older hunter whatsoever. Until, of course, he mentioned he would tell Kyrie he was being a difficult prick while she was away (leaving the prick part out, naturally). That had gotten him up off his ass in less than an instant.
All too soon, the two groups (now rivals) went to their separate vehicles of transportation to get what they were going to get so they could do…whatever it was they were going to do(?).
Unfortunately for them, they met up at the same store that was, luckily for them, unlucky for the workers, still open (in which Dante made things difficult for Lady and her follower by snagging the last stick of butter left in the entire store, and Lady returned the favor by crashing her cart into his and Nero's…multiple times). All in all, the store manager and his cohorts ended their day by cleaning up many different products from the aisles.
Finally after two or so hours of shopping for things that didn't even make sense, the rival crews went to their respective cooking domains. Dante and Nero: Devil May Cry, Lady and Trish: at her place.
-DeadTurkeysMakeForANiceMeal-
It had taken awhile but at last the two females had got a meal going with Trish's "Blueberry and Vanilla Cake" and Lady's "Biscuit Surprise." The surprise you ask?
They weren't biscuits.
"Alright, so what's next?"
"You got me, we used most of the stuff we bought. What do we have left?" Lady questioned.
"Well," The blond dug into the remaining bag of groceries that Dante had purchased for them (against his will) and named them off, "We have two cans of chicken broth, an apple, popcorn…frosting...a gravy packet, another apple, and…what the hell is that? Is that tofu?" she cocked her head to the side, turning to her companion, "Why do we have tofu?"
Lady who had been in a state of distaste at the ingredients Trish had listed off, answered her friend, "No idea. Probably got those while crashing carts." She shook her ebony head of hair at the memory, "Look, the frosting, what kind is it?"
"Strawberry." she answered immediately.
"Ah, good enough," she shrugged, "That can go with the cake. Now as for the gravy…packet, mix it with, I don't know, one-fourth cup of water or something and put it in the microwave for a couple minutes. I'll cut the apples, bake them and mash the tofu. Where do you keep the seasonings?"
"Top left cabinet."
"Got it." She nodded her understanding, before turning back to the blond, "Oh, and make sure the bowl you use isn't metal this time, Trish." She ordered and Trish grumbled on while she did what she was told.
An hour-and-a-half later, they were staring down a too watery plastic bowl of gravy in disdain. "Okay, so maybe we went a little overboard with the water." Trish scooped up a spoonful of the 'not supposed to be liquid' concoction and watched it 'plop' back into the bowl. "After all, it was just a packet of gravy."
Her friend nodded her head in agreement, "Yeah, if you have any flour maybe we can do some stuff." She went over to the stove in which her tofu creation remained untested and untouched. I'm definitely ditching the tofu, she thought to herself then turned back to Trish, "I don't think the microwave can do anything else with it."
"I don't think anything can do much else with this." She looked on unsurely, "What would the flour do?"
"Thicken it."
Before she could ask more about that, she stopped when she caught a whiff of something wrong. It smelt like apples, blueberries, a hint of vanilla, and a smell she was all too familiar with, smoke. Not sure if she did really smell what she was because of the all around wrongness of it, she couldn't help but ask, "You smell something?" In which the lady in question reacted much violently to what she had planned. With an enlargement of the eyes and the curse of "Shit!" she had the oven opened in an instant.
Which was a very bad idea now that she had the time to think about it.
Before she knew it, the kitchen was surrounded in a cloud of smoke, all she was tasting was smoke, and all she could hear was smoke, although, how you can hear smoke I have no idea, (maybe it was the smoke alarm, perhaps?) and the two were thrown into a very vicious coughing fit all the while getting the windows open and stuff out the oven and into the sink.
To both of their surprises, the biscuits (?) and the cake were fine; unfortunately, the same could not said for the apples. (RIP apples).
"Get the phone," Lady spoke when her coughing fit ceased and she could breathe normally again, "We're calling Nina."
-?-
"Dude, that's not her."
"Well, Kid, I'm telling you that it is."
"And I'm telling you it's not, Old Man."
"It is!"
"It is not!"
"Is!"
"Not!"
"Is!"
"Look, why would they put Pocahontas on the cover of a box of butter?"
"I don't know," He cocked his head to the side and thought on that for minute before coming to the conclusion, "Maybe Disney owns them."
"…"
"…"
"You're an idiot." Nero shook his head in amazement at the amount of stupidity one person could be full of.
The Devil Hunter scoffed and crossed his arms, "That may be, but so are you."
The white haired teen rolled blue eyes, "Whatever. Anyway, what's next?"
The older man raised an eyebrow, clearly in question to what his junior had asked, "Aren't we done?"
"Nope. We still got this left." He dug into their shopping bag and pulled out a potato, a disposable fork, and a box of cereal.
"Well, we got a pie in the oven, and water on the stove for spaghetti, I say we're good." Heh. We're so winning this thing, He dusted his hands of none existent dirt but then turned back to Nero, "There wouldn't happen to be any strawberry frosting in there by any chance, would there?" The teen checked the bag once more then shook his head. He shrugged it off.
CLANK! Clacka! Clank!
He jumped at the unexpected noise but didn't show it. Turning to the cause of the noise, he came to find out it was a pot. "Dude, what's in that pot?"
Dante who had been off in La-la Land previously, approached the vessel warily, "Water."
"Water and what?" he asked, albeit shakily.
"Nothing." He answered, going up to the stove to check on what the hell was going on. Just when he was three seconds away from lifting the lid…
It exploded, which sent the two into two very unmanly screeches.
"Holy shit," Nero screamed. "It blew up!"
"Why does this keep happening?" Dante cursed in annoyance. Before they could go on cursing the paranormal for any longer, a new racket started up.
BumBumBumpBumBump-p!
"You hear that?" Dante asked.
"Hear what, Old Man?" Nero asked hurriedly, still trying to catch his breath from the last event.
"Shhh…"
Bumpbum…bumpbump!
"That."
He looked around nervously, "Where's it coming from?"
With one louder Bump! They could zero in on the source of the noise. And the two could only stare at one thing, The oven.
Nero cautiously used his Devil Bringer to open the oven door and be as far away as he could at the same time. Unfortunately for him, it didn't matter where he stood, for whatever was in that oven had wanted out.
And out it got.
"Holy…!" Dante exclaimed.
"It's a monster!" Nero cried.
The thing that was assumed to be a chocolate-strawberry pie just an hour prior to this incident puffed up just a bit more…
…Before it exploded completely.
"GAAAAAAAHHHH!"
-I'llTryYourPoisonIfYouTryMine-
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"
"I'm assuming you don't mean me nor my friend over here, so I'm just going to take a guess and say you're talking about the chow."
"Perceptive, as always, Lady."
"Ooh, that's a big word, Dante, just learned that today?"
He chuckled at the retort. "Funny. But you should save the jokes until after you see our stuff." He grinned cockily. "Show it, Kid." 'Kid' in turn grumbled, but did as told. "See it and weep, babe." He said smugly.
It was actually a nice sight to see, a golden-glazed baked turkey, perceptibly well done, a sweet potato pie that looked too good to be true, mashed potatoes, mashed to perfection, and a delicate pan of mouth watering cornbread. All in all, the food was just too good.
"Cute." Lady commented dryly, ridding her sweater of any nonexistent lint before looking back up to meet the half-devil's ice colored orbs straight on. "You ordered that." She stated matter-of-factly.
Dante paused, clearly in shock on how she saw right through him, "Who told you that?" He asked in bewilderment.
"Other than the fact that you just did," she smirked as he cursed himself, "You left the take-out menu on the counter."
He cursed again but this time at the younger boy, "Damnit, Nero, I thought I told you to burn that!"
"Oh, my bad," He began sarcastically, "I was too busy picking dough and chocolate covered strawberries outta my hair to do it." The front doors to the Devil May Cry opening and shutting closed cut off any smart remark Dante would have made.
In strutted cool, calm, and collected eldest son of two who had been fortunate enough to be away from all the drama that day and who was going to continue to be kept out of that drama by avoiding all, but one, involved with it by keeping as far away as possible. Unless, of course, he was provoked.
"Hey, V." The younger of the twins greeted before turning back to business with his lady. Vergil hmm'ed in acknowledgement and soon disappeared behind a kitchen cabinet where he was later joined by Trish.
"You know what I think?" he asked, eyes turning on Lady, "I think Nina made this." He gestured to the green bean casserole and butter-flaked biscuits on the other side of the table.
"Yeah, that makes sense. It would explain why Patty's here." His accomplice agreed, gesturing to the little girl at his side. Said little girl, giggled his way amused at the sight of everything going on.
"I bet the only thing you made was that lopsided cake, that shitty lookin' water crap and…what're those supposed to be, biscuits…the hell?"
Lady huffed at the insult, "Well, at least something we made is on this table, Dante. We win, now shut up."
"Like hell! I'm not washin' dishes for a month!"
Before she could retort to that, however, Patty, the only mediator available cut in, "Can't we forget about that right now, Lady, I'm hungry and the food's getting cold. Besides we can always get him to wash the dishes another way."
He scowled the curly haired girl's way, but kept quiet none-the-less.
"Now, let's say our thanks." She started, trying to bring up a cheerful atmosphere, "I'm thankful for this yummy food I'm about to eat! What about you, Lady?" she grinned up at said woman, who smiled at the attempt.
"Well, I am thankful…" she trailed off and her smile became devious, "That Dante didn't cook this food."
"…Hey."
"Because we would've died of food poisoning if he did!"
"Okay, I think you made your poi-"
"Because Dante can't cook worth a damn!"
"Alright, that's it!" Was what he said before lobbing a chunk mashed potatoes her way.
-FoodFight!-
"Aren't you going to join in?"
The blue-clad man scoffed, obviously insulted at the inquiry, "I have no desire to get involved with things which are not of my concern." He raided the cupboard in search for the salt when he came in contact instead with an empty case of baking powder, he could've sworn it was full that morning. Shrugging it off as it wasn't worth his time, he continued on until he felt something splatter onto the back of his head. Undoubtedly a potato.
Calmly closing the cabinet shut, he turned slowly all the while unsheathing Yamato. "Now," he said to no one in particular, although Trish was listening intently, "It is my concern." And with a battle cry, he set out towards the table where the laughter cut and newfound screams began.
