Word count: 1475

Previously on Dead Ringers:

Emerson and Aaron talk about the case. They are looking for someone with serious knowledge in chemistry. Aaron reminds Emerson that only a Bokor, a voodoo high priest, could produce the zombie drug. Emerson suspects Oscar Vibenius.

Aaron thinks colors seem so much brighter in that town. He comes to the conclusion his trip to the "other side of the looking-glass" could be a dream or some sort of magic.

Back at the Pie Hole he feels a family and an intellectual connection with Chuck and an attraction to Olive.

Outside, a man in a Water and Power Department truck observes the Pie Hole. He'll have his revenge at Halloween night.

And now the story...

X

Recipe For A Perfect Pie

(October 30th, evening – Papen County – The Pie Hole)

It was closing time at The Pie Hole, and the last patrons had just left. Outside, the street was vibrant with all the lights that adorned Lakeshore streets at night. Inside the Pie Hole, however, the spectacle was not that pretty. Or at least that was what Aaron was considering.

"What time does the cleaning crew arrive?" said Aaron, looking at the pile of dirty dishes in front of him.

"Ha, ha, ha!" Chuck laughed. It was a pleasant, sweet, and honest laugh. Aaron felt like telling her more jokes just to hear that laugh.

"Oh, Ned. You're so funny sometimes," said Chuck. The problem was precisely that he wasn't trying to be funny. Aaron had always had the help of maids, especially Ivette, who had practically raised Sharon, Jaye and him. Aaron enjoyed a life of comfort. And in this situation he would be more than glad to give the key to an army of maids, go to the movies or something, and come back only when everything was spotless clean.

"Yep, that's me, funny Ned. How do you want to start?"

"I can start washing the dishes while you prepare the fruit for tomorrow's pies. How does that sound?"

"Sounds great..." Then it occurred to him that he had no idea what prepare the fruit meant and what it would require. Better play it safe. "On second thought, I'd rather wash," added Aaron, facing terrified the possibility of having to wash that pile of dishes, considering he wasn't used to washing one cup. "You prepare the fruit."

"I can prepare the fruit! Or wash the dishes!" said Olive, who had just entered the room. She had been excited and chirpy all day since Aaron had taken her out for lunch.

"Oh, my dear Olive! Excellent idea. You know, Chuck, Olive was telling me today she wanted to get more involved in the whole pie-making process. Why don't you show her how we always do things after she leaves?"

"But Ned... I thought you wanted to give your special touch to the fruit as you usually do?" pondered Chuck. Somehow Aaron felt that she was trying to tell him something, but there was no way he would be caught preparing fruit if he had no idea how. He would observe Chuck do, and perhaps try it himself the following day.

"Come on, Chuck. Let's try something different tonight. Do you have anything against change?"

"Ah... Nothing?" said Chuck, who perhaps couldn't say anything else on account of the fact she seemed speechless.

"Besides, I may not always be around, and Olive here..." he said, pulling her close to him, making her respond with an even bigger smile, "told me at lunch today that she would like to be more involved, so why not use all this enthusiasm?"

"All right, boss!" said Olive, definitely externalizing that aforementioned enthusiasm.

"I don't know if we have enough fresh fruit," said Chuck. "I'm going to check that then," she added, with a sweet smile.

Aaron kept wondering how she expected him to prepare the fruit if she wasn't sure they had enough fresh fruit to begin with. Anyway... it all went on smoothly. Olive had already done that before, and all they needed was to set the right amount of fruit that needed to be cleaned, cut and separated for the orders of the following day, while Aaron pretended to wash the dishes. That is, he would wash a plate or a cup, then would interrupt to say how great the girls were doing their jobs.

Finally, for Aaron's complete joy, Chuck finished the fruit preparation, while Olive finished washing most of the dishes. The girls took care of most of the things that evening, but he knew it wouldn't always be that easy, and soon he would have to get his hands dirty, and not just figuratively speaking. But for that he had a brilliant plan in motion.

* * *

It was the middle of the night, and the kitchen light of the Pie Hole was switched on. Two friends entered the room. Two friends, one human and one canine.

"OK, we're going to make a pie now, Digby. How hard can it be?"

"Bark!" Digby replied, wagging his tail.

"Sssshhhh!" Aaron shushed Digby. "No one can know we're here! OK, buddy?" said Aaron, patting him on the head, behind the ears, then under the chin.

"Woaaaa," Digby mumbled, closing his eyes and enjoyed Aaron's display of affection.

"I have to admit I don't know what made me bring you here, but I'll go crazy if I don't have someone to talk to. I wasn't born for this life of spy. I just hope your friend Ned is less lost than I feel now. Well, buddy, let's get to work."

Ned picked the recipe notes that Chuck had showed him earlier that day. He opened the refrigerator, and saw all the fruit that had been prepared by Chuck and Olive, as well as the other ingredients necessary. Fortunately, not all the fruit had been used. There was a lot of strawberry, rhubarb, and apples, so he had some for experimentation. And so the experimentation process began.

Aaron decided to start with a strawberry-rhubarb pie. He followed the recipe to the letter. He put it in the oven, set the exact temperature, and waited the exact time, while he prepared an apple and a strawberry pie. He got the pastry out of the oven and let it cool down.

Then he tasted it. "Hmmm, not bad," he told himself, making an ugly face. He kept chewing, but the pie wouldn't break down. It was like chewing rubber... Finally the taste so foul that he had to spit it in the garbage bin. And the rest of his strawberry-rhubarb followed that first portion.

"Yuck!" he complained, and washed his mouth with a lot of water. "I guess rhubarb gets too bitter and fibrous. Maybe a simple strawberry pie will be easier."

He repeated the process. It was time to taste it. Too little sugar, the bottom of the pie was soggy, and the filling was runny. At least that one didn't make him feel like vomiting.

He tried the apple pie. It had too much sugar, and made him terribly thirsty. And the crust was so hard he almost broke a tooth. How is that possible, he thought. I used the exact proportions in the recipe!

And the experiments followed. Too hard, too flaky, too sour, too sweet, too burned, too soggy, too disgusting.

It was almost dawn, and his last pie was going into the oven. A triple berry pie. He wasn't even sure what he was doing anymore. The only thing that moved him was the fact he was relentless and stubborn.

And now there he was. The sun was rising, and a pie was in the oven. His last pie. His last hope. In front of him was a ball of dough that he needed to flatten with the rolling pin. But he was too tired and frustrated to even try.

"You know, Digby, I really admire your friend Ned. I don't know how he does it. This is just impossible."

Digby moaned and stretched himself and placed his chin on his front paws, looking at Aaron with an expression that indicated pity.

"And he has two fantastic girls that love him. What a lucky bastard! And I think I love them both."

Digby raised his head.

"I know! I know it's sudden, but so much is happening that is making me dizzy."

Digby was fully up on his four legs.

"OK, OK. I can't love both. I mean, not the same way. Chuck is family. Like another sister. As if I needed another little sister. But Olive... Oh, Olive... I'm having wicked thoughts... That are making me dizzy. I wish I were more like Ned..."

"Bark! Bark!" Digby barked, ignoring Aaron's silence instructions. But Aaron heard Digby's barking in a way that it sounded like he was in a tunnel. And the reverberation was making him confused.

"...more like Ned..." Aaron mumbled. "Hey, did I tell you I was dizzy?"

And that was the last thing Aaron said. He collapsed, and his head hit the dough ball, which now worked as a makeshift pillow where Aaron drooled.

Digby kept barking, but that made no difference for Aaron, who couldn't hear anything. He had passed out, and when he woke up, his life would never be the same again.

- 5 -