AN: I really don't own Talking Tom and Friends. Credits for it belong to Outfit7.

Tom and Ben Enterprises

Angela rang the doorbell to Tom's house in frustration to her boyfriend's refusal to see, but man, did all that waiting had to pay off for her. She knew well that Tom could mess easily in their last dates in Europe, the Middle East, Brazil, and Japan. She was sorting things in her purse, waiting for Tom to get the door. After many minutes of waiting, she had heard him running down yelling "I'M COMING!" before arriving to unlock it. From there, Angela was not impressed but smiled.

"Well, Tom, I made it. Despite your stupid directions." Angela crossed her arms. Tom straightened up.

"Ah! Angela! Babe, welcome. I hope you're prepared for an unforgivable lunching." Tom said with a cheeky grin.

Angela sighed. "Yeah..."

She placed her wine bottle from France on the table and Tom went into the kitchen happily, until he saw something that caught the blink of his eye. "Ah!"

"Oh egads, my roast is ruined!" Tom placed his hands on his cheek and walks near the window, rousing up a generous plan. "But what if, I were to get fast-food from Hank and Ginger and disguise it as my own cooking? Ho! Ho! Delightfully devilish, Tom!" Tom opened the window of his house opened and tried to sneak out of there, until Angela unlocked the kitchen door and caught Tom by surprise.

"TOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!" Angela yelled at him mad. Tom looked back at her with a worried but composed face.

"A-Ah! Angela! I was just... Stretching my calves on the window sill, isometric exercise." He grinned while looking confident. "Care to join me?"

"Why is there smoke coming out of your oven, Tom?" Angela pointed.

Tom looked at it with shock and tries to shake it off. "O-Oh! That isn't smoke. It's steam. Steam from the Steamed Clams we're having. Mmmmm... Steamed Clams!"

Angela sighed and she left the room, Tom wiped the nervous sweat off his forehead and made his way out the window towards Hank's house for his specialty dishes.

"Hank! Hank!" Tom ran towards where he and Ginger were both relaxing on the sun. "Listen, I need you to help me fast! It's an emergency!"

"What is it, Tom..?" Hank opened a Cucumber from his eye. "Didn't we already help with you that?"

"Yeah! Don't butt into our privacy!" Ginger protested.

"It's not that! My roast that you gave me Hank..." Tom began to grown angrily gripping his fists. "Was LEFT in the oven burning because YOU forgot to turn it off!" He crossed his arms.

Both Hank and Ginger looked at each other for a moment before looking back at Tom. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that buddy. Is there anything we can do?"

"Yes, and here's the plan!" Tom whispered in Hank's ear. After understanding, Tom and Ginger both rush to their kitchen.

A few minutes later...

Angela was getting her seat cleaned up and suddenly, Tom exited out of the kitchen holding a large plate-tray of Taco Spaghetti Burgers. "Angela, I hope you're ready for mouthwatering hamburgers!"

"I thought we were having Steamed Clams..." Angela looked a bit suspicious.

"O-Oh, no. I said Steamed HAMS." Tom shook his head in denial and rebuked. "That's what I call Hamburgers."

"You call Hamburgers Steamed Hams?" Angela looked at them suspiciously.

"Yes, it's a regional dialect." Tom replied.

"Uh-huh, what region?" Angela questioned.

"Um... Upstate New York." Tom answered.

"Really, well I'm from France which does happen to have New Yorkers and I never heard them use the phrase Steamed Hams." Angela responded.

Tom laughed again once more. "Oh no, not in France. It's an Albany expression."

"I see..." Angela picked up one and took a bite out of it, suddenly something caught her eye. "You know these Hamburgers are quite similar to the ones they have at Hank's."

"O-Oh, no! Pattened Tom Burgers! Old family recipe!" Tom grinned again once more.

"For Steamed Hams..." Angela sighed.

"Yes!" Tom replied.

"Right, so you call them Steamed Hams despite the fact they are obviously grilled." Angela presented the meat of the Taco Spaghetti Burger to him.

Tom was getting nervous as the steam coming out of his kitchen begin to grow, he knows that Hank and Ginger are playing in there. "Y-You know... One thing I should... Excuse me for one second..."

"Of course, Tom." Angela went back to finishing it, not that she was interested.

After calming them both down, Tom went back to table seat yawning. "Well, that was wonderful. Good thing that for all, I'm pooped."

"Yes, I should be goin-" Angela was ready to leave until she saw fire coming out Tom's kitchen door. "Good lord! Tom, what is happening in there!"

"Aurora Borealis!" Tom replied fast.

"Ah... Aurora Borealis! At this time of year, at this time of day, and this part of the country..." Angela looked mad. "Localized entirely within your kitchen!?"

"Yes." Tom grinned.

"Can I see it?" Angela requested.

Tom hummed for a moment. "No."

After Tom and Angela head outside, Ben the Dog sees a fire coming from his bedroom and hollers out. "TOM! The house is on fire!"

"No, Ben! It's just the Northern Lights!" Tom called up to him.

"Well, Tom. You are the weirdest boyfriend I have ever met, but I must say..." Angela winked at him before she began to leave. "You steam a good Ham."

As Angela begins walking away, she hears Ben's cries for help. "HELP! HANK! GINGER! XENON! HELP!"

Angela looked back concerned, but Tom raised his left thumb up and Angela took it for granted. She left.

The Fire Department is on its way and Tom sighs in relief that the day has been saved.

The End