Max bitterly bit into the chocolate chip cookie that Maxine had given her earlier. She had taken Logan aside and expressed her concerns that the cookies may have been poisoned, but he shook his head and told her to relax. After secretly testing the cookie she relaxed. But she still watched that crazy Maxine like a hawk. She just knew she was going to snap any minute... and she had to be there to stop the inevitable carnage.
"Want another one?" Maxine smiled and handed another cookie to Logan.
Max crushed the cookie in her hand, getting chocolate chip goo all over her hand. She decided then that Maxine would just have to... go away. Very far away. From Logan.
"No thanks." Logan replied and put the cookie down on the counter. "I'm kind of full."
'That's right.' Max thought crazily. 'You reject her cookies of manstealingness!'
"Max, are you okay? There's a very large vein popping out of your forehead and you're all red."
"I think I hear a faucet dripping somewhere."
With a worried gasp, Maxine grabbed the mop and rushed from the room. Max smiled to herself and wiped the chocolate goo from her hand with a dish towel, then turned to Logan.
"Okay, she'll be gone for a little while." She began. "So, would you please look up her file again? Her psychiatric evaluation perhaps?"
"Yeah, I'll do that." Logan stood, and as he was walking to the computer room, he muttered, "And I'll look up yours too."
Maxine entered the kitchen again, frowning. She carefully put the mop in its newly designated space and turned to Max. "I couldn't find a leaky faucet anywhere."
"Must've been my ears on the fritz." Max shrugged.
"Anyway, I was wondering something - about the real world."
"Shoot."
"Well, you know, I was wondering about how to go about getting a job." She sighed. "I just can't seem to figure out how to go about it. I mean, from the looks I get, it would seem... my apron turns people off."
"Well, not many people wear aprons these days."
"But - but I was trained on the women of the fifties television shows! Aprons! Pie! Cookies! Milk! Helping teenagers with the problems and barely getting any lines!" Maxine exclaimed. "It's what I was built on!"
She roughly grabbed Max by the shoulders and began shaking her. "This world is rocking my foundation!"
She let go of Max and began pacing back and forth like a caged animal. She began muttering to herself, but Max could only make out that it was some sort of recipe that called for "butter, two sticks" and "flour, two cups."
Max plastered a smile on her face then slowly backed out of the kitchen and rushed into the computer room. She pointed in the direction of the kitchen and exclaimed, "She's a complete nutjob! She's - she's nuttier'n half the muffins she bakes!"
Logan swiveled in his chair and gave her an indecipherable look. He sighed. "I know."
"You've got to be - uh, what?"
"I know." He said and turned back to the computer. "I dug deeper into her file and read her psych evaluations, and without the drugs Manticore supplied her with... she's like Martha Stewart on speed."
"Is she... dangerous?" Max asked and began reading the file on screen.
"Luckily for us, she was the least... crazed of her group in Manticore." He said and pulled up another file. "She's fine if you didn't interrupt her baking or cleaning. But her siblings... some of them can get pretty bad. There's a reason they only made ten, and that's because they were so defective they could hardly be controlled."
"So, if we just let her bake, she's cool, right?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Why?"
Max paused. "Oh well, nothing. I just, you know... how much flour do you have?"
* * time lapse... * *
Max ducked as a frying pan hurtled toward her. It just missed her and crashed into the wall, then fell to the floor with a clang. She set the bag of groceries she was carrying on the counter and made her way warily over to where Maxine was digging through Logan's cabinets. She was sitting on the floor, pots and pans scattered all around her.
"I, uh, brought you some stuff."
"Thanks ever so much!" Maxine chirped and got up. For a moment Max worried that she was going to attack, but she just walked over to the grocery bag and began emptying it. "I can use this, thank you."
"No problem." Max nodded then walked to the computer room.
She found Logan sitting at the computer, his head in his hands. Before Max could ask what was wrong, he sighed and motioned to his desk. She turned and saw that muffins, cookies, and pies were stacked up on his desk.
"We need to get her out of here!" He sobbed.
"Want another one?" Maxine smiled and handed another cookie to Logan.
Max crushed the cookie in her hand, getting chocolate chip goo all over her hand. She decided then that Maxine would just have to... go away. Very far away. From Logan.
"No thanks." Logan replied and put the cookie down on the counter. "I'm kind of full."
'That's right.' Max thought crazily. 'You reject her cookies of manstealingness!'
"Max, are you okay? There's a very large vein popping out of your forehead and you're all red."
"I think I hear a faucet dripping somewhere."
With a worried gasp, Maxine grabbed the mop and rushed from the room. Max smiled to herself and wiped the chocolate goo from her hand with a dish towel, then turned to Logan.
"Okay, she'll be gone for a little while." She began. "So, would you please look up her file again? Her psychiatric evaluation perhaps?"
"Yeah, I'll do that." Logan stood, and as he was walking to the computer room, he muttered, "And I'll look up yours too."
Maxine entered the kitchen again, frowning. She carefully put the mop in its newly designated space and turned to Max. "I couldn't find a leaky faucet anywhere."
"Must've been my ears on the fritz." Max shrugged.
"Anyway, I was wondering something - about the real world."
"Shoot."
"Well, you know, I was wondering about how to go about getting a job." She sighed. "I just can't seem to figure out how to go about it. I mean, from the looks I get, it would seem... my apron turns people off."
"Well, not many people wear aprons these days."
"But - but I was trained on the women of the fifties television shows! Aprons! Pie! Cookies! Milk! Helping teenagers with the problems and barely getting any lines!" Maxine exclaimed. "It's what I was built on!"
She roughly grabbed Max by the shoulders and began shaking her. "This world is rocking my foundation!"
She let go of Max and began pacing back and forth like a caged animal. She began muttering to herself, but Max could only make out that it was some sort of recipe that called for "butter, two sticks" and "flour, two cups."
Max plastered a smile on her face then slowly backed out of the kitchen and rushed into the computer room. She pointed in the direction of the kitchen and exclaimed, "She's a complete nutjob! She's - she's nuttier'n half the muffins she bakes!"
Logan swiveled in his chair and gave her an indecipherable look. He sighed. "I know."
"You've got to be - uh, what?"
"I know." He said and turned back to the computer. "I dug deeper into her file and read her psych evaluations, and without the drugs Manticore supplied her with... she's like Martha Stewart on speed."
"Is she... dangerous?" Max asked and began reading the file on screen.
"Luckily for us, she was the least... crazed of her group in Manticore." He said and pulled up another file. "She's fine if you didn't interrupt her baking or cleaning. But her siblings... some of them can get pretty bad. There's a reason they only made ten, and that's because they were so defective they could hardly be controlled."
"So, if we just let her bake, she's cool, right?"
"Pretty much, yeah. Why?"
Max paused. "Oh well, nothing. I just, you know... how much flour do you have?"
* * time lapse... * *
Max ducked as a frying pan hurtled toward her. It just missed her and crashed into the wall, then fell to the floor with a clang. She set the bag of groceries she was carrying on the counter and made her way warily over to where Maxine was digging through Logan's cabinets. She was sitting on the floor, pots and pans scattered all around her.
"I, uh, brought you some stuff."
"Thanks ever so much!" Maxine chirped and got up. For a moment Max worried that she was going to attack, but she just walked over to the grocery bag and began emptying it. "I can use this, thank you."
"No problem." Max nodded then walked to the computer room.
She found Logan sitting at the computer, his head in his hands. Before Max could ask what was wrong, he sighed and motioned to his desk. She turned and saw that muffins, cookies, and pies were stacked up on his desk.
"We need to get her out of here!" He sobbed.
