After Dipper had SOMEHOW managed to force his horrible breakfast down without retching and Mabel had made a mental note to ask for muesli next time (Better the devil you know), 'Mama' (Real Name: Mavis) stood up and motioned those on her side of the table. "Come on girls, your classes begin now."
Penelope happily skipped ahead, dragging a not-exactly-enthusiastic Mabel all the way. 'What do I know about cooking' the sweater lover pondered 'I LOVE eating it, but making the stuff?! A thousand times NO.' The only experience she'd had that even vaguely resembled it were some friendship cookies she'd made for her and Dipper while she was still in kindergarten, made out of plasticine, with buttons as decorations.
They hadn't turned out the best.
In the meantime, 'Papa' (Alias: Charles) had turned to Dipper and said: "Now, Marmaduke, you'll be helping me with my business affairs today. This will be the start of a long, difficult road for you... But one day, you will be the head of this household, so I expect you to listen to every word I say. Otherwise, do you know what THIS is for?" The man brandished his cane again, which by now had had all the red stuff washed off, and it's diamond tip was looking as sparkling as ever.
"Y...y...yes Sir!" said Dipper, still fearful of receiving a second beating of the day, and wondering just what the heck his 'Papa' had done to poor Diego. He knew the servant had landed him and his sister in trouble yesterday, but surely the poor guy didn't deserve... Whatever had happened to him... to be laid off work for an indefinite period.
As he followed the madman down the corridor, Dipper was already thinking about that evening. Both of his fake parents had mentioned something about a 'party'... Which would mean... They'd be a lot of people there... And security might be a bit stretched... And maybe, just maybe, a chance for him and his sister to escape.
Or, perhaps he could try to get some help from one of the guests. Surely not ALL rich people could be as bad as the Smythe-Kensingtons... He may have thought that at some stage, but after getting to know Pacifica properly and befriending her, he had come to the conclusion that his biases were a bit prejudiced. On the other hand, was it WORTH taking the risk that the person he'd confide in might be one of the close allies of 'Mama' and 'Papa'? Perhaps not.
His other options were a bit scarce. He hadn't seen ANY phones since he'd arrived that he could secretly use, just the walkie talkies a few of the servants seemed to use to correspond with each other. How he wished he still had the journal he'd dropped the day they were spirited away... He hated these people so much, he'd almost do a deal with Bill to turn them into heaps of sludge on the floor.
And then there was Mabel, and the strange new friendship she'd noticeably started with Penelope. He didn't fail to notice the caring looks they'd exchanged over the breakfast table... In fact, though he was loathe to admit it, he was starting to get a bit jealous. 'Sure, Penelope is a nice girl and everything' he thought (And a positive SAINT compared to her mother and father) 'but why is she so clingy with my sister? Well, Mabel said she'd tell me everything later, so I guess I'll have to wait 'til then...
In the midst of his deliberations, Dipper suddenly felt a tug on his ear. "COME ALONG MARMADUKE! Don't stand there dawdling, and catching flies with your mouth. This is one of the most important days of your life... The day you start to TRULY become my son, and learn the tricks of my trade. So, HURRY UP!" The pre-teen was dragged by his lobe to the office.
"OUCH!" Dipper refused to cry out, because that would make 'Papa' even angrier. 'The sooner we get out of here, the better'. Dipper thought, as he entered the big study, before being lifted painfully up by his lobe and shoved into a chair next to a large computer.
MEANWHILE:
Penelope was so enthralled at the prospect of baking with her new 'big sis' she would not stop giggling. 'That used to be me, back when I actually had something to laugh about' sighed Mabel. Nothing would make her happier right now to have a water balloon fight with her twin, or play 'Hunt The Waddles' with her best friends. Instead, it was like being stuck in the worst reformary of all time... Damn, she missed Piedmont and Oregon. She wondered if she'd ever be able to return.
Or even, go back to her own COUNTRY.
"Right you two, your aprons are by the door..." That was Mama, in her typical, aggressive, blunt voice." You'll know which one is which by the insignia... And PENELOPE! Get that stupid smile off your face this instant... This is a cookery class, not a comedy club!"
Penelope withdrew into herself, knowing better than to poke the hornets nest with a stick when the insects were angry. Mabel stopped herself from saying something out-of-turn for about the thousandth time since her arrival.
Walking over to the hook attached to the door, they saw a pair of aprons. One with the letter P emblazoned on it, and the other saying F. No prizes for guessing who was supposed to wear which. First Mabel, put her's on, they helped Penelope tie her's.
They approached the main working top of the kitchen together, a place which was absolutely surrounding by fridges, freezers, cupboards, drawers, shelves... It was absolutely huge. 'Not surprising, when you consider the size of the rest of the house' Mabel noted.
All the chefs and waiters had been told to vacate the premises for four hours at least, so the 'young ladies' could have their lessons, but Mabel couldn't help but notice one corner of the room looked in a bit of disarray compared to the spotlessness of the rest... With pots and pans on the floor, and some suspicious red stains on the floor...
Mama didn't seem bothered by the mess, or maybe she just didn't care. She began by giving a speech: "Hello girls, and welcome to your cookery class. Obviously Penelope has had plenty of these before, but today we welcome the newest member of our prestigious family... Florence. We never thought we'd have another child again, after those nasty rumours spread about us in America. But here we all are now... In another country, in another life... And two new Smythe-Kensingtons who I'm sure will overcome their rough upbringings, and become just as much a part of our brood as if I'd given birth to you myself."
'Geez' thought Mabel. 'What a scary image.'
"And now, like all little girls from our illustrious lineage, it's time to turn you two into proper ladies. By the time you come of age at 18, we shall expect you both to be wed. That will mean your new husband will want a woman around the house who will be able to take care of all the domestic affairs, while he's hard at work. First and foremost amongst those required skills is cooking. Lunches. Meals. Desserts. Snacks. You will need to acquire these talents for many occasions, which is why you're lucky you've got an excellent teacher here to show you what to do". She added with a hint of pride.
Penelope nudged Mabel with a grin. "Isn't Mama something, Flo?"
"Er... Yeah... She saw is, Pen" said a dazed Mabel, trying to process everything at once.
"Today, because I know that it's Florence's first day here, we'll start off with something easy. A lasagne, made from only the finest ingredients of course. Your laminated menu sheets are at your respective work stations. You both have plenty of room to chop, mix and stir, and I will be here if you need any assistance. Don't forget to follow the EXACT measurements, or you'll just end up with a dog's dinner. And we both remember what happened the LAST time you messed up this recipe, DON'T WE PENELOPE?!" She gritted her teeth at the little girl.
"Er... Yes, Mama" replied Penelope meekly. Mabel just said to herself 'BREATHE'... 'BREATHE'... 'Don't say a word...' 'You'll only make things worse for you both...'
"Okay, you both have four hours to finish the dish to my satisfaction, and then clear your work stations. Everything you need for preparation is on the main table. So without further ado... BEGIN!" 'Mama' then pulled up a chair, and sat her ample frame down to read a copy of 'Housewives Digest' while helping herself to what looked like some very expensive individually wrapped chocolates. She wasn't going anywhere.
And neither, as she started perusing her cookery sheet and hastily getting the inventory together for the task at hand, was Mabel.
MEANWHILE...
Dipper was quite good with computers. He was also decent when it came to addition and subtraction. So, he surpised his 'Papa' with managing to quickly calculate just how much his stocks and had gained or lost since the previous week.
He had also managed to set up a spreadsheet for final income per annum, as well as calculate the amount of overdraft the running of their mansion cost... And whether 'Papa' could afford to let any inessential staff go.
What he DIDN'T know is how exactly the older man made all his millions. Dipper did try to broach the subject on a couple of occasions, but the nasty glare he got from his 'Papa' (who he was now sure was a grade A psychopath) warned him not to push the issue.
But even though he was doing well, it didn't mean to say he was particularly ENJOYING his work. In fact, it was as boring as an extra long detention.
And it was because of this, and down to the fact that 'Papa' had got up from the computer for a split second, to get a cup of Earl Grey tea, that was the cause of what happened next.
Finally free of the man's never ending attention for a few blessed seconds, and feeling light-headed at the tedium of the last few hours, he couldn't help but relax.
Big mistake.
"MARMADUKE, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" That was the sound of Papa, as he dropped his hot beverage, to push Dipper off the computer onto the floor, while the older man stared at the screen with horror.
You see...
Dipper had nodded off.
On the keyboard.
And somehow, he had deleted a month's work by pressing random keys
Whoops.
'Papa' was not best pleased. In fact, he looked like a volcano ready to erupt. Evacuate the villagers, everyone... Women and children first.
Unfortunately, one child who didn't look like he was going to be saved was poor Dipper, still on the ground, desperately crawling away from the red-faced man in front of him, ready to commit major GBH with his cane.
"Er... Don't you have a party tonight?" Dipper desperately tried to stop him in his tracks. "If you want to present me to all your guests... You'll go easy on me..."
"Oh don't worry, " The insane old coot said with relish. "I won't be breaking any bones, and the professional make up people we have here can cover pretty much all abrasions. After all, I've been using them to help me cover my daughter's little 'accidents' for years. So, don't worry on my account. Now, come on over here..."
"What was that you just..." Dipper started his sentence.
But he was cut off by a loud...WHACK!
MEANWHILE
Things weren't going much better for Mabel. She was SURE she'd followed the instructions to the letter. She was SURE she'd put in the correct amount of everything. She was SURE that she'd set it to be cooked at the right setting in the time suggested on her worksheet.
It still came out a mess.
Penelope had tried to help her, but with Mama's shouted insistance that each girl did 'everything herself', her adopted little sister's attempted input was stifled to say the least.
And here she stood, with what could only be described as a flaming wreck, waiting to be judged by the older lady, like a death row inmate waiting in line at the gas chamber.
It looked like Penelope had done MUCH better though, with a delicious looking meal that Mabel would never guess had been made by the hands of a seven year old. She was almost bubbling over with joy at her accomplishment, while still remembering to cast a sympathetic glance Mabel's way.
'Not that that's going to help me with what's bound to come next' thought Mabel, ruefully.
Mama approached hthe former braces wearer slowly, like a snake encircling it's prey. First, she looked at the burning heap in front of her. Then, she smelt it. Finally, after staring at Mabel for a split-second with an unidentifiable expression, she picked up a fork...
And TRIED it.
Mabel watched her miserable attempt at a dish go round and round in Mama's mouth... As the older lady seemed to analyse every facet of it...the texture... the flavour... The TASTE.
And all this time, Mabel was biting her nails... Her uneven jaw taking away huge pieces of nail... As she hoped against hope... That she had somehow made a culinary masterpiece...
YUCK! *SPIT*
That was the sound of Mama nearly choking with disgust on the horrible excuse for food in her mouth, before regurgitating it at record speed into a perfumed hankie she always carried with her. After recovering from the ordeal of nearly poisoning herself (with the help of a few sips of imported water) she was ready to confront Mabel.
"Oh no, here it comes'... Thought the frightened girl, as the not inconsiderate bulk of Mama towered over her. 'I wonder if they have instruments of torture here too...' she wondered.
But, surprisingly enough, the beating of a lifetime never arrived.
Instead, she was grabbed like a ragdoll and given a firm hug ,while her Mama started talking to her in an empathic voice.
"My sweet, sweet child. I Didn't expect you to be an expert at this straight away, but I never realised things were THIS bad. Have things in America really deteriorated that much, that girls your age can't even prepare a simple meal with passable results? Thank goodness we found you when we did... We'll do this every single day until you get it right. Then, we'll move onto the next recipe... And, the next one... And, I am confident that in time... You'll be as good a homemaker as I am, along with all the other lessons I plan to teach you. So, don't worry. I'm not going to punish you... Today." She reassured Mabel, while crushing the pre-teen girl between her heaving bosoms.
Mabel wasn't sure which was worse... The future she'd just had telegraphed to her, or being squashed to death by a pair of oversized breasts.
Finally, she was allowed to go free... But not without being given ANOTHER sloppy kiss on the cheek. 'I'll have to remember to duck in the future' thought Mabel, wiping the area down while 'Mama' turned around to concentrate on Penelope.
"OH DARLING!" Exclaimed Mama, in surprise delight. "THAT LOOKS SIMPLY MARVELLOUS!" She took a bite. "AND IT TASTES AS GOOD AS IT LOOKS! YOU'VE REALLY LEARNED YOUR LESSONS FROM LAST TIME! Of course, I can't give you all the credit... After all you do have ME telling you what to do!" . She added smugly.
'I see humbleness is rampant in the Smythe-Kensington family' Mabel thought sarcastically, as Penelope hoped around with jubilation.
"And as a special treat, we'll serve it tonight along with the rest of the party menu, and I'll tell everyone my darling youngest daughter was the one who made it!" Mama practically showered Penelope with compliments, and, as the little girl was unused to this kind of effusive praise from her mother, she was practically bursting with excitement.
Mabel smiled wryly at the smaller girl's hysteria "At least ONE of us is happy."
Unfortunately, that delirium was going to come at a cost.
You see, despite having being victim to various assaults caused by similar acts of defiance in the past...
Penelope couldn't help but think of how wonderful her mother had desctibed her lasagne...
She couldn't wait for tonight...
She had to try it NOW.
So, using the same fork her Mama had just put down...
She stood up on her tippy-toes to reach the baking tray...
And took the smallest of pieces...
Just to see what it was like...
The fork was nearly in her mouth...
SMACK!
That was the sound of Mama, who had been on her way back to her chair, noticing her disobedient younger daughter's actions, before the older lady ran there to give her a strong slap across the face.
Penelope crashed right into the oven as a result of the heavy blow. Sadly, her lasagne was on top of the cooker, and the impact had the undesired effect of knocking it on the floor and spilling it all over the place.
"WHAT DID I TELL YOU!" Mama fumed, as Penelope lay crying on the floor... "I JUST SAID THAT WAS FOR TONIGHT... SO NO TASTING! UNFORTUNATELY... THANKS TO YOU NEVER LISTENING TO A WORD I SAY, ALL THOSE INGREDIENTS... AND ALL THAT TIME AND ENERGY I SPENT TODAY HELPING YOU MAKE IT SO GOOD HAS GONE TO WASTE!" She paused for a second. "Unless..."
She grabbed hold of a still snivelling Penelope by the scruff of her neck. "I want you to eat every single piece of this mess off the floor... And lick it clean afterwards. Then, hopefully you'll remember next time I tell you to do something... YOU'LL DO IT! Now, get cracking... You two have a parlour to vacuum and polish this afternoon."
Mabel, watching all this going on, had two opposing emotions going around in her head.
The first was Hate, telling her "YOU HAVE TO SAY SOMETHING, WHAT SHE'S DOING TO THAT POOR LITTLE GIRL IS DESPICABLE!
The other was Caution, which informed her "Keep quiet, and you won't get hurt. She's going to punish the girl whether you speak out or not... So, why bother putting yourself in jeopardy?"
The two emotions were battling it out for supremacy...
Who would win?
The fight was only settled once Mabel heard Mama tell the sobbing little girl, on the ground, chewing up every piece of food like a mangy dog "You missed a bit behind the table. Eat it all, NOW." Before giving Penelope a little prod with her foot.
THAT. WAS. IT.
The winner? No contest.
"HOW DARE YOU TREAT YOUR OWN DAUGHTER LIKE THAT! "Mabel screamed, stunning both Mama and Penelope. ALL SHE'S EVER DONE IS LOOK UP TO YOU... RESPECT YOU... LOVE YOU... AND YOU ACT LIKE SHE'S SOME KIND OF SLAVE! AND DON'T THINK I HAVEN'T SEEN ALL THOSE MARKS ON HER BODY... SOME OF THEM SCARS FROM YEARS AGO! AS SOON AS ME AND MY BROTHER GET OUT OF HERE, WE'RE GOING..."
"You're going to do WHAT?!" Mama had recovered from the surprise of being shouted at so vehemently, and was even now making her way over to Mabel. "Perhaps me and your Papa didn't make ourselves clear enough earlier... And maybe it's time to repeat a few things..." She picked up a thrashing Mabel by her short hair (ripping out a few bunches in the process) , before depositing her on the central table, on her back, with her butt raised.
Despite her own distress, Penelope still had the presence of mind to know what was going to happen next. "MAMA, DON'T! SHE DIDN'T MEAN IT!
Mama turned away from the struggling Mabel for a minute. "No, Penelope. I know EXACTLY what she meant. And, now it's time to teach her a few rules around here... The same way we've taught you..." She then proceeded to lift up the ruffles of Mabel's dress, before pulling down her underwear.
"STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" Mabel screamed, before the first smack landed on her naked backside.
*SMACK!* YOUR NAME IS FLORENCE SMYTHE-KENSINGTON!
*SMACK!* YOU LIVE IN MEXICO!
*SMACK!* I AM YOUR MAMA, AND PAPA IS YOUR FATHER!
*SMACK!* YOU WILL DO WHATEVER WE SAY!
*SMACK!* THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM HERE!
There then followed five more slaps: DO. YOU. UNDERSTAND. LITTLE. GIRL. Each one harder than the last, before Mabel was quite literally dropped crying on the ground, with her rear as red as a stop light.
"Now, let's hope you both learn from this experience." commanded Mama, as she approached the sink while a tearful Mabel swiftly put herself in order. "NEVER question me or Papa. We love both of you, and what we inflict on you now hurts us a lot more than it does you. But, if it is necessary to keep you both on the right path, we will do whatever it takes. I especially hope YOU Florence, won't be as unruly as Penelope has been up until now... Then, maybe you won't have as many marks as your sister."
She paused while washing her hands. "Well what do you know. Charles was right... really IS easy to wash blood off the skin."
Then, after drying each finger individually, she addressed the two girls again, who were now cowering under the giant table itself, holding onto each other as if for dear life, bawling their eyes out. "Oh, stop the waterworks! It's most unladylike. Lunch is in a few minutes. You better be there... You both still have a LOT of work to do this evening before the party. So, HURRY UP!" She then left the room, humming a happy tune.
Mabel and Penelope didn't feel like joining in.
MEANWHILE, BACK IN GRAVITY FALLS...