Recipe for Disaster
Chapter 6: The Stoles Take the Cake
"Does someone, anyone, want to explain how, in Dante's Tenth Circle of Hell, this happened?"
"There's only nine circles love," Annabeth said, leaning in to whisper in Percy's ear as the head of the Poseidon cabin glared at his fellow councilors. The group had gathered around the restored ping pong table and were looking rather confused at the hero. Most of the blue dye from the blueberry climbing wall had begun to wear off, leaving the group as a pale azure hue, rather than the sharp sapphire they had been for the previous week. Still, they looked ridiculous and, at the very least, deprived of oxygen.
Still, it was a little disconcerting to see Percy this angry. "I don't care, I'm building a tenth circle just for this bullshit." He responded, eyes narrowed as he waited for a response. "How did this happen?"
"Well Percy," Leo began, with his usual, crooked smile. "When a man and a woman love each other very much, and want to share that love by bringing another life into this world..."
"The hell are you talking about?" he shouted as he leaned heavily against the table. "Who said anything about a baby?"
"Wh...wait, aren't you and Annabeth?..."
"Say what?" the daughter of Athena said, eyes narrowed as she looked at the still smirking mechanic. "What makes you think I'm pregnant? What stupid, idiotic thought is rattling around that brain of yours to even assume that Percy and I..."
"Seriously?" Leo remarked, pulling out a notepad and flipping it open to review something scribbled inside. "Hmm...I could have sworn..."
"Leo, I will hurt you, in ways that will shatter your nightmares," Annabeth snarled, rising from her own chair and leaning against the table.
"Really?" the head of Cabin 9 arched an eyebrow, his imagination twisting a perverse grin on his elfish features.
"Leo, I will hurt you, in ways that will shatter your nightmares," Percy echoed the response, his own snarl fixed against his features.
"Fine, okay," he responded, igniting his hand and burning the notebook. "But you know, maybe you should be more specific than just throwing out a sentence and expecting us to understand what you were talking about..."
"I'm talking about this," Percy said, lifting a ream of paper with printed requests from the gods that had seemingly piled up in their absence. "Not bad enough you guys make Chiron go on another forced vacation, but then we get called back to take care of this crap. What have you all been doing the past few weeks?"
"What have you been doing?" Travis Stoll asked, his eyebrow raised suggestively as he pursed his lips and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Yeah, what he said," Katie replied, trying, and failing to mimic Travis.
Percy and Annabeth only looked at each other before the pair turned their attention back to their fellow councilors. "Seriously?" Percy asked, shaking his head in disbelief, "We've been out killing monsters..."
"I think the politically correct term is 'sponsors'." Malcolm said, casting air quotes at the last word while his face drew a disgusted frown across his features. "Since you two have gone on your cross-country murder spree, it has been really hard to find sponsorship for our cooking show!"
"Are you seriously buying into this shit Malcolm?" Annabeth asked her younger brother, her own eyebrow raising in disbelief. "It's not murder, they are MONSTERS! They kill innocent people!"
"So do politicians, and no one goes arresting them! Besides that's just your prejudicial, short-sighted belief of racially motivated hate-mongering. They're just innocent victims, trying to scrape by a living, and then, you two pop up and...oops, kills them all. Do you know how much it costs to produce our program? Production costs are expensive, do you have any idea what the expense ratio is to run this show?"
"Nothing!" Percy explained, his eyes sweeping across the gathered demigods. "The building is constructed, we're not renting the equipment, and none of us are getting paid for this, so where is the sponsorship money going Malcolm?"
"Huh..." the son of Athena chewed on his lip as he considered the question.
"And while you all are cooking to entertain the gods on Hephaestus TV, or turning yourselves blue apparently, no one has been fulfilling the gods' daily requests of...oh, darn, I've lost another vital artifact in my endless collection of shit." Percy said, slapping the sheets of paper on the table. "Look here, Aphrodite has lost her third favorite mirror, oh the tragedy. Piper, she's your mom, send someone from your cabin to find it."
"No!" Jason screamed as he stood in protest, "That's my harem dawg, you can't send them out."
"I can, and I will," Percy said as he looked at his cousin, "and call me dog again and I will feed you to Mrs. O'Leary.
"Anyway, speaking of dogs, here's another, seems Hades has lost the collar for Cerberus, all three of them apparently, and if we don't find them by the summer solstice, he's threatening to raise the dead."
"What?" Annabeth said, snatching the document from Percy's hand. "The summer solstice was last Tuesday."
"Yeah, as it turns out, he raised the dead in Montana," Butch replied as he shrugged his shoulders.
"We've been so busy, I didn't even notice," Annabeth remarked, placing her head in her hand as she breathed uneasily at the ramifications of what had happened.
"No one did, apparently."
"Fine, apart from the pending zombie apocalypse Hades has summoned, we need to get to work on these items." Percy responded, sliding a stack of pages in front of each head councilor. "Review the request items and assign people to handle the jobs."
"Why should we?" Leo challenged, jutting his jaw out in defiance before the stern visage slid from his face to his usually sly smirk. "And for that matter, when the hell did you become the responsible one? What have you done with Percy you impostor!"
"Leo, have you ever had 38 gallons of water shoved up your nasal cavity? If you don't want to know what that feels like, I suggest you shut up," Percy said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He began to wonder, fruitlessly, how Chiron could have taught so many hyperactive demigods over the years. That thought made him feel very old. "You all have assignments to get to, make sure you get them taken care of."
"Right," Malcolm said, clapping his hands together and standing up and again making his presence known. "Now that the boring stuff is over, let's talk about this week's cooking show. We drew the names and apparently..."
"We volunteer as tribute!" Travis shouted, interrupting the announcement as his hand rose in the air in a strange three finger salute. "Me and Conner are going to be this weeks hosts."
"Travis, do not give the gods any more ideas on how to torture us, the cooking show is bad enough, we don't need them setting up the Hunger Games," Annabeth sighed as she returned to her seat, though her mind meticulously concocting scenarios to eliminate everyone in camp. As she remained within her own mind, a slow smile spread across her lips while considering the various ways to take everyone out, Percy eyed her warily, the devoted gaze caused her attention to be drawn to the present. "Not you love," she whispered, reassuring Percy that, while he secretly knew what she was thinking, his demise was not among her master plan.
"No serious, we got this though. Just leave the whole thing to us," Travis said, a smile sliding onto his face that made all in attendance aware that they were all in trouble. "Trust us, it'll be epic!"
"Don't trust him, because Travis is a liar," Katie replied, her frown dawning upon her face as she glared at the son of Hermes, who in response, threw his hands over his heart as though she wounded him.
The rest of the camp councilors turned their attention to the director of the program who shrugged his shoulders. The Stole brothers couldn't have been worse that the selected choice of Tyson, who was eager to teach everyone how to make peanut butter sandwiches. Compared to summoning an elder god, burning down the original production studio and the magic harpy oven that ultimately caused Chiron's brain to pop like a balloon, what's the worst that could happen? But it was that singular thought that sent a shiver down his spine.
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Light blaring to life, the two brothers, sons of Hermes stood behind the prep table and smiled with all the charm and mischievous mischief they could muster. "Good evening Olympus, and welcome to Home Cooking Network. I'm your host this evening, Travis Stoll, and with me as always, my partner in crime..."
"Conner Stoll. And thank you for that amazing introduction brother."
"My pleasure Conner," Travis said as he continued to smile, "Today, we're making a simple dish of Korean Shish Kabob, or so you think," he said, smirking directly into the camera while simultaneously tapping the side of his nose while winking to the audience.
"Indeed," Conner said, as he displayed the ingredients before him. "So, we have the marinated steak, onions, red peppers and yellow peppers. Now, the key to assembling this delicacy is alternating meat and vegetable combos. You'll also want to separate out the vegetables, so no two onion slices set together, place it against a red or yellow pepper. Keep in mind, the yellow pepper is slightly sweeter in taste, so depending on your preference, the yellow pepper could sweeten the flavor of the steak when its cooking."
Travis slapped his brother on the back before again addressing the camera. "What wonderful insight Conner. Now, we're going to assemble the kabobs by using a long metal skewer. This will benefit the heating of the meal because metal is a conductor, thus cooking the food from the inside, while the heat of the oven cooks the outside. So, assemble in whatever order you want, but making it colorful as well as constructing the right food flavors is a must."
Within a few short minutes, Travis and Conner had taken the ingredients of the shish kabob and assembled them into a marvelous display of artful nourishment. Holding the platter at a slight angle to show off the pile of food to be prepared to cook, both brothers waved their hands over the meal as though it was to be the centerpiece of a seven-course meal. This of course was before Conner took the plate and threw it, food and all, off camera as though he were tossing a Frisbee.
As he was doing this, Travis waved his hand from left to right in a large arch. "Now consider this, a time wipe so we can show you the finished product."
"We're filming this live Travis, there is no time wipe on this show." Malcolm yelled from off camera, his mind racing as to what madness the brothers had started.
"Pretend there is, okay?" he said at last, before turning and opening the oven, only to retrieve a cake box from a nearby bakery and place it in the center of the prep table. Opening the box, the older brother retrieved a beautifully sculpted dessert for all to see. "And viola, we have ourselves a perfectly made New York style cheesecake."
"That's amazing!" Conner screamed in faux excitement, his attention pivoting from the dessert to the camera and back. "Travis, how on earth could we have gone from Korean Shish Kabob to Strawberry Cheesecake?"
"How indeed my dear brother," Travis replied, a smile again painting his features as he pulled a strange silver rectangular device from his back pocket. "To answer the question of the intrepid adventures of the brave little cheesecake, we've prepared ourselves a little instructional video..." As he pressed a button upon the device, a large projection screen descended from the ceiling as the overhead video player turned on.
"What the schist is that?" Leo asked, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "We never installed a projection screen in here!"
"Shh...the show's about to start," Travis said, as he and his brother stepped to either side of the screen. As they did so, an image of Travis, sitting in the front seat of a car filled the image.
"Hello Camp Half-Blood, and hello residents of Olympus who may or may not be watching, I am Travis Stoll, which you already know, and I'm here to retrieve a very important item we need for our upcoming episode of Kitchen Night Terrors. Now, at this moment, we are preparing to acquire said confection from that bakery over there," Travis said, as the camera panned to show a corner bakery three blocks from their current location.
"Now, I know what you're thinking, Travis, you tantalizing testament of masculinity, if the bakery is out there, why are you in this car? That's a perfectly good question, and the reason is, we're going to steal this car."
"Right again Travis," Conner said from the passenger seat as the camera again fixed itself on the younger brother. "Now, for those watching at home, please keep in mind, that if you are looking to hotwire a car, your best bet is to choose a vehicle that is prior to 2004, when additional security measures were put into place to prevent just such a crime. Because of that, we're currently in a 1998 Chevrolet Corsica, so this definitely fits the pre-2004 requirement, and let's face it, we're probably doing the owner a favor by stealing this beater."
"Ain't that the truth," Travis said, pausing a moment to allow the camera to move back to him. "Now, to accomplish the theft of a vehicle, you need the right tool. Now, the Swiss Army have their fancy little knives, but we've designed our own tool. That's right, for six easy payments of $19.98, you can own your very own Demigod Utility Tool (Patent Pending)." Travis paused to hold up a pocket knife with numerous accessories. "This will give you everything you ever need. Made of high quality Celestial Bronze, this tool has two knives, tweezers, a spool of 100 feet of bronze thread that can be refilled (sold separately), a miniature saw, bottle opener and a corkscrew, for whatever you may need that for. But, most importantly, it comes with a set of seven lock picks, and a wire splicing tool. It is everything you could ever need, so order now while supplies last."
"Wow, what a bargain, and if you order using the special promo code 'The Stoll's Rule Your Face', we'll knock off one...no, we'll knock off two payments. That's right, we've gone crazy with the savings. For only FOUR payments this amazing resource can be yours. Order today."
"Right, now back to the show," Travis said, having removed the casing around the steering wheel and using his tool to slice through two wires before splicing the wires and tying them together as the car lumbered itself awake.
"But wait, now I know what you're thinking," Conner said, once more the camera shifting to his place in the car. "If the bakery is only three blocks away, why take the time to steal this vehicle? Well, because then we wouldn't have a reason to hotwire this car, now would we?" he said, as though this was the most obvious answer.
"Isn't that the truth," Travis remarked, taking a moment to adjust the mirrors before merging into traffic and traveling the meager four blocks before parking the vehicle close to their destination. "Now, we're going to leave this car running, mostly because hotwiring it again will only strain the ignition, and besides, no one will steal this junker..."
"Except us," Conner corrected, only to have a fixed affirmation from his brother. As Conner and Travis exited the vehicle, followed closely by their camera operator, they moved to enter the bakery, pausing only a moment to be addressed by Travis.
"Now, there are numerous ways to procure a needed baked product without the need of paying," he said, speaking directly into the camera and ignoring the annoyed looks of the numerous passerbys who fixed an annoyed look at the group.
"But what we recommend is the 'Cards Against Commercialism'," Conner helpfully supplied, holding up a set of 15 business cards. "For just five easy payments of $12.35, you too can own a set of these handy-dandy identification cards that will allow you to pass yourself off as a representative of one of several official positions. From Building Inspector, to members of the mayor's office, maybe you want to pass yourself off as Postmaster General of the state? What about a member of the Fire Marshal's inspection squad, or the Police Commissioner's Department of Internal Affairs? Or my personal favorite, bank auditor, these cards will transform you into the designated position you wish to pass yourself off as.
"Each of these expertly crafted cards are printed on high gloss, authentic card stock paper, guaranteed to ensure no meddlesome mortal will be able to determine the deception that you are not a representative of a duly elected position of the local, state or federal government."
"Utilizing state-of-the-art mist manipulation, these cards are 38% guaranteed to fool those short-sighted mortals. Though, we hold no responsibility for any mortal able to see through the mist. But these cards will literally pay for themselves," Travis continued the sales pitch, offering a charming smile into the camera. "And if you act now, we will include this convenient hard plastic carrying case at no charge. This case will not only allow you to carry your cards safely in one convenient storage compartment, but will prevent split corners or foxing on the edges of the cards themselves. So order now while supplies last."
"Couldn't have said it better myself," Conner concluded, shuffling through the cards in his hands before retrieving the selected identification card. "But, I think you need to see these cards in action to know how effectively beneficial these will be. Now, for this specific excursion, we are using the Office of the Health Inspector card."
–"Are we not producing a cooking show? What is this?" Malcolm said, watching in horror at the screen before being hushed by Leo who was writing down the number on screen to order the 'Cards Against Commercialism'.
Back on the projection screen, the image of the group entered the bakery and made their way to either side of the display counter, flanking the attendant as they scanned the baked goods to find what would interest them. Realizing that they were being filmed, the cashier turned from the pair of brothers, uncomfortable about why a camera was brought into the bakeshop.
"May I help you gentleman?" the seemingly nervous clerk asked, wondering why the two men were followed by a camera operator and glaring suspiciously at the baked goods.
"Yes," Travis answered, stepping up to the counter and holding out the card to be observed by the attendant. "I am Denton Furgrath, of the New York County Health Inspector's Office. We've received some unsettling complaints about the status of your product here and have been instructed to do a thorough sweep of your facility to ensure the safety and quality of your baked goods."
"And if you order within the next fifteen minutes, you will receive our scripting tutorial to learn proper verbiage and communication cues at no charge," Conner replied proudly into the camera.
"Uh...what?" the clerk asked, shifting his attention to the younger brother before snapping his notice back to Travis.
"It's nothing important," Travis remarked as he brought the attention of the teenager behind the counter back to himself. "What is important is that our office has received numerous complaints about the quality of your product, and as such, we are tasked to confiscating samples for quality assurance purposes."
"Um...I'm not so sure? I mean, this is my dad's store. Maybe I should call him?"
Leaning heavily against the counter Travis narrowed his eyes at the attendant. "Look, you look like a good kid, and I get that this is a stressful situation, but all I need to do is make a single phone call to city hall and have your business license revoked."
"What? No, um...what do I have to do," the teen said in near panic, believing the camera was now present to document his cooperation.
"We'll take two dozen donuts, one cinnamon strudel coffee cake, one butter strudel coffee cake...and that cheesecake," Travis responded, pointing to the strawberry cheesecake in the domed display on top the counter. "That'll be a good enough sampling to ensure the quality of your product."
"O-of course, coming right up sir," the clerk remarked, hurriedly moving to fulfill the order, unaware of Travis turning and winking towards the camera.
"Well done son, we're going to take this to our department to ensure quality assurance," Travis replied, as he and Conner gathered the boxed products of baked goods. "If you do not hear anything from us within the next 48 hours, then your product inspection has passed."
"Uh...y-yes sir," the clerk stated, offering the party to have a nice day as they left the shop.
"And that dear viewer, is how you procure free products using our patented card system." Conner remarked while they made their way to the stolen vehicle. With that, the video cut off as Travis and Conner stepped back into view of the production camera.
"Thus ends our tutorial program on how we managed to make Korean Shish Kabob into this delicious cheesecake," Travis said, pointing to the camera. "Now, I know what you're thinking, 'Travis, you devilishly debonair demigod of dreamy desire, what happened to that vehicle you stole?' Well viewer, given that neither Conner or myself were wearing gloves or protective wear, it's safe to assume that when the police did recover the vehicle, seven blocks away when the engine died, they would dust for prints. That's where this comes in..."
Raising his hands to the camera, Travis revealed latex pads at each of his fingerprints. "That's right, for a limited time only, you can purchase the Fingerprint Masking Kit, ensuring that when, whatever nefarious crime you commit, is investigated, it will not be traced back to you. This particular set of fingerprints I am wearing belong to one, Percy Jackson!"
"What?" Percy said from off camera, his eyes narrowing as he stood from his chair in the observation field.
"Oh, that's right, these latex fingerprints come in a set of 10 different celebrity demigods, and can be yours for only six easy payments of $14.22. But enter the special promo code 'Suck It Percy', and we'll eliminate one payment. But order now while supplies last."
"So wait," Percy said, moving closer towards the brothers as he reached into his pocket, his fingers gripping Riptide. "You made a latex forgery of my fingerprints and used that while you stole that car? Why?"
"Prank war Percy!" Conner replied as though the answer was obvious. "We only put spiders in Athena's cabin, we didn't know it would trigger a panic attack for Annabeth, and we apologized, but that wasn't good enough for you. NO, so you responded by giving us food poisoning. We were sick for three weeks!"
"You know Annabeth nearly died to Arachne, right? And you think that was a good prank?"
"I don't think retaliation warranted nearly killing us!" Travis answered.
"So your escalated response is grand theft auto?"
"Oh please, for something to be 'grand theft' it has to exceed $100. That was a '98 Corsica, be lucky to get $79 from that junker."
"Okay, okay," Percy responded as he withdrew his pen from his pocket. "Now, counter response, someone needs to make your shrouds, because I've been killing every sponsor of this stupid show, and you've spent the entire program pilfering your crap merchandise."
"Crap merchandise? That's state of the art I'll have you know!"
"Mmm...choose your last words wisely," Percy remarked, stepping into frame of the camera, only for Annabeth to step in front of her boyfriend and place her hand on his chest.
"Hey, I got this babe," she smiled, before her face turned sour and she pointedly stared at the two brothers. Moving off camera, she raised a duffle bag and began thumbing through what could be observed as several manila envelopes. Extracting two selected packets, she returned and threw them on the prep table, her eyes boring holes into the skulls of the sons of Hermes. "You have three choices," she said, her voice firm and deliberate.
Confused, Travis and Conner stared at each other before looking at the pair of envelopes before them. "And yet, you've only given two envelopes."
"Oh good, dumb ass can count," Annabeth recounted, before the hissing voice of Malcolm reminded her she was standing in the way of the camera. Rolling her eyes, she stepped aside so those watching on Olympus could watch the drama unfold. "The third choice is that I drag you both down to the training arena and you can join Holly and Laurel in the infirmary..."
"Hey, you only attacked them because they were trying to get with Percy, neither of us were doing that," Conner said nervously, as though realizing the mistake they have just made.
"No, they were messing with my boyfriend," Annabeth recanted, her arms crossed as she glared at the brothers. "Whether its situational or literal, no one, and I mean NO ONE tries to screw my boyfriend!"
At this, Percy came to stand beside Annabeth, his arm looping around her waist as he offered a soft smile. "Do you know how much I love you?"
"Prove it," she smirked, her tone making everyone exceedingly uncomfortable at the implications she was expressing.
"What did you have in mind?" Percy replied, apparently forgetting the crowd of demigods and the camera filming their flirtatious banters.
"Mmm...role play 37..."
"The carpenter?"
"Yeah," Annabeth moaned eagerly, her lips moving to Percy's ear, yet her words still loud enough for all in attendance to hear. "You're the hammer."
"Oh gods...I didn't need that mental image!" Malcolm screamed as he buried his face in his hands while several remaining demigods considered the idea with varying degrees of interest.
With that simple statement from his beloved girlfriend however, Percy grabbed her hand and eagerly dragged her from the studio, leaving a concerned Travis and Conner to stare at the pair of envelopes still laid before them.
"One question," Jason asked the brothers as the program was wrapping up, "Who was your camera operator while filming your crimes?"
"Yes," Katie replied, as giggles bubbled from her lips in a barely restrained contortion of restrained energy. "Who indeed?"
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A/N: Well, been a while since I've written a chapter, hope this was okay for everyone. Been kind of fixated on Homecoming for a while, I just love the exploration of deeply emotional storytelling. So, shameless plug, but if you haven't read that...well, you might enjoy it.
Anyway, this was actually the chapter that inspired the whole Recipe for Disaster story. The idea of the Stoll Brothers actually stealing a cake as a makeshift cooking show and using it as a platform to sell their illicit merchandise was just funny to me.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. As always, if you're kind enough to read, please be kind enough to review, like, favorite my story. Thank you for reading.