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Macaroni and Cheese
"What the hell do you mean, 'I need an appointment'?!?" Bakura slammed his fist down on the desk of the receptionist at the Animal Ark Hospital. "I want to see a doctor for my dog. NOW!" The young woman behind the desk flinched involuntarily.
"You need to schedule an hour-long appointment for a routine checkup. Only emergencies are taken immediately because they are more important."
Bakura let fly with a stream of curses in Ancient Egyptian before calming down enough to request the earliest hour-long appointment available.
"Tomorrow at 9 AM with Dr. Gordon."
"Fine."
"Your dog's name?"
"Baka."
The tomb robber, still carrying Baka, marched huffily out the vet's office and grumbled all the way home.
"I can't believe those baka mortals ordered me around like that... Bakura, the greatest tomb robber in the history of Anicent Egypt, need an appointment? I don't think so, bakana kusos don't know who they're messing with...."
Bakura fumbled with the key to the door, managed to flip it around the right way and shoved it into the door, twisting it at the same time. The door unlocked with a small 'click' and swung open. Baka, relieved to be home and not at the vet's, wriggled out of his grip and vanished down the hallway.
Deciding he didn't care whether anything was destroyed anymore, the ancient thief took out a box of Kraft Maceroni and Cheese for dinner. He ignored the happy box, knowing somehow Ryou made it so he could, too. Instructions? He had no need for instructions! How hard could it be to make Maceroni and Cheese?
It was obvious that he needed some type of pot..... Bakura rummaged around in the cabinets for ten minutes before he found a stainless steel shiny pot. It reminded him of knives..... anyway... what did he do now? He was stuck.
Then, just to 'to see how Kraft made their macaroni and cheese', he decided to follow the instructions. Let's see- it was either the stove or the microwave. Either might set the food on fire, which would be very lovely. An evil grin stretched across his face. Then again, he needed to eat- Bakura chose the stove.
Boil 6 cups of water.
That was a difficult sentence to follow by itself. Boil? What the hell did that mean? He found a dictionary and opened it to the B's, flipping through the pages until he reached the word 'boil'.
Definition #1: A painful, circumscribed pus-filled inflammation of the skin and subcutaneous tissue usually caused by a local staphylococcal infection. Also called furuncle.
Bakura wrinkled his nose in disgust. Perhaps this was the WRONG definition.
Definition #2: To turn liquid into gas with extreme heat.
His eyebrow raised. This sounded fun. But how hot did it need to get? The tomb robber scanned the list of words on the page quickly and found another: boiling point.
Definition #1: The temperature at which a fluid is converted into vapor, with the phenomena of ebullition. This is different for different liquids, and for the same liquid under different pressures. For water, at the level of the sea, barometer 30 in., it is 212 [deg] Fahrenheit; for alcohol, 172.96 [deg]; for ether, 94.8[deg]; for mercury, about 675[deg]. The boiling point of water is lowered one degree Fahrenheit for about 550 feet of ascent above the level of the sea.
Bakura had no idea what the f*ck the phenomena of ebullition was, but he saw that for water to 'boil', it needed to reach 212 degrees, whatever they were.
Just then he spied a little dial on the stove that said Clean - Off - Warm - 200 - | - | - | - 300 - | - | - | -400 - | - | - | - 500 - Broil in a circle.
"Hmm..." he mused outloud. "Those lines stand for numbers, and the numbers must be degrees. He reached his hand out and turned it a little to the right, then looked back at the paper. The tomb robber shrieked in surprised as one of the ranges on the stove clicked before a small blue flame appeared.
"Ooh..." Bakura mumured, entranced by the flame. Ten full minutes passed before his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he was starved.
He left the flame on, because it was pretty, and retrieved the measuring cups. This part was easy. Ryou had taught him that much. He filled the cup six times with water and dumped it each time into the pot. He read the next direction.
Stir in Macaroni.
Easy! Bakura opened the package of noodles and poured them carefully into the pot, which was now emitting small bubbles. He looked at the box again.
Boil 7 to 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
He placed the pot on the stove and waiting impatiently. The water didn't seem to be doing anything. After five minutes, Bakura poked the pot with a finger and yelped, withdrawing it hastily when it was burnt.
"I guess it's working, afterall." He said to himself, while running cool water from the tap over his finger. He got a wooden spoon and stirred the macaroni. While it still had a minute left, he read the next direction.
Drain. Do not rinse. Return to the pan.
Bakura's eyes brightened. Yes! He knew what that meant, too! Feeling immensely proud of himself, the thief took out a yellow drainer from under the sink and meticulously poured the noodles into it. The water hissed as it ran through the drainer and down the drain. He then took the drainer and poured the damp noodles back into the pot.
Then another direction.
Add 1/2 cup margarine.
Margarine? What?
He took out the dictionary again.
Definition #1: A fatty solid butter substitute consisting of a blend of hydrogenated vegetable oils mixed with emulsifiers, vitamins, coloring matter, and other ingredients.
It sounded like a disgusting concoction. But there was a word he actually recognized: butter. If margarine was a substitute for butter, than butter could be used as a substitute for margarine..... right? Bakura decided to try it and took out the butter. He had been wondering how it was possible to actually measure out 1/4 cup of butter when he saw the markings on the package. Thank Ra! He took out a knife, one of his favorites, actually, and cut the butter. He dropped the small piece into the pot. The tomb robber watched it dissolve for a moment, then looked for the next direction.
Add 1/4 cup of milk and Cheese Sauce Mix.
Hey! They were cheating! Those were TWO directions, not one! Oh well... it was still simple. Bakura fetched the measuring cup again and the milk from the refrigerator. He poured the white liquid into the '1/4' cup and in turn dumped that in the pot. Then he took the Cheese Sauce Mix and ripped off the top. He tossed the cheddar into the pot and read the last and final direction.
Mix well.
Effortless. The tomb robber used the spoon again to stir up the Macaroni and Cheese. He sniffed the air hungrily and was pleased to note the heavenly scent that drifted out of the pot. He knew he could make it without help! Of course, he might have looked at the box once or twice, but the rest was all him! Bakura couldn't wait for it to cool off and bolted it down in five minutes flat.
"Ah...." he sighed in contentment. "I am a good cook."
The graverobber gave the pot to Baka for her to 'clean' and stripped down to his boxers. (Aithril: *_*) He fell into bed, exhausted.
*Too much brain power, I suppose...* was Bakura's final thought before he floated off to dreamland.
(A/N: No doubt in Bakura's dreamland, there are people dying, rivers made of blood that you are free to sip at anytime, and knives that pop out of the ground like daisies.... -_-;; I wouldn't be suprised.)
***
The next morning, Bakura woke up with Baka sound asleep, her chubby body pressed against his back.
"SHIT!" He suddenly yelled and she jumped up, baying at the top of her lungs.
"What time is it?" He shouted frantically and leaned over to check the clock. "8:45?!? Crap!" The tomb raider leapt out of bed and dressed in clean clothes. He ran a brush through his hair twice to remove the huge knots, then sat down to eat breakfast. Bakura looked at the round kitchen clock that hung above the doorway. "Only 10 minutes now! No time!"
He set down a bowl on the floor and filled it with the 'free sample' of dog food he had picked up the day before at the local supermarket. Baka eagerly inhaled the whole meal in two seconds. Bakura grabbed something called a Breakfast Bar and tucked her under his arm. Doing a balancing act, he locked the door, tucked the key in his pocket, and slammed it shut behind them. He estimated they had about five minutes left and practically sprinted to the Animal Ark Hospital. Along the way, he ripped open the wrapper of the Breakfast Bar with his teeth and crammed it into his mouth. He managed to swallow the foul substance as he climbed the steps to the office.
Bakura threw open the doors and strode inside, glaring furiously at the receptionist (a new one this time) as if the fact that he had almost been late was all her fault.
"Name please?" She said without looking up. He jumped, then realized she was talking to him.
"Bakura Ryou."
The woman looked up at him, smirking. "No, honey, your dog's name."
The tomb raider's eye twitched spastically, and even she noticed that. He growled softly, and took a deep breath. "Baka."
"Ok," The receptionist said, nervous now. "You'll just have to fill out this form and then Dr. Gordon can examine your dog." She held out a clipboard and pen with shaking hands.
Bakura muttered something under his breath and snatched the materials away with one hand. He stalked off to a chair directly across from the desk. He raised the pen, about to start, when he felt the receptionist's stare on him. The grave robber slowly raised his eyes from the floor to her eyes, a slow smirk spreading across his face. The woman gulped and began typing hurridly at the computer, her gaze never leaving the screen.
He sneered in satisfaction and picked up the form again. Lucky Ryou had taught him to write in Japanese.
FORM:
Dog:
Full Name: Baka
Nickname: Baka
Mother: No clue
Father: Haven't the faintest.
Gender: Female
Spayed or Neutered? (Y or N): What the hell?!?
Age: I have no idea.
Breed: I don't know!
Coat Color(s): Black, white, and brown
Eye Color(s): How could she have two different eye colors?! BOTH of her eyes are brown.
Height: No bloody idea!
Weight: I'd guess around 35 pounds.
Shot History: Huh? She's never been shot as far as I know.
License Number: She doesn't have one. That's what I f*cking came here for.
ID Chip? (Y or N): No
Owner
Name: Bakura Ryou
Age (In yr.s): 5,000
Address: 98 Section A
Len's Apartments, Japan (AN: How DO you write addresses in Japan? Or phone numbers for that matter? Oh well... here goes my best guess! hehehe LOL!)
Phone Number: 318- 373- 4109
Credit Card or Check?: Money? This costs money?
A standard check-up costs $100 to have the doctor examine your dog and there will be additional costs if shots or any medicine is needed.
Clip your check to the paper below or wait until after to pay with your credit card.
END FORM
"Well...." Bakura muttered. "That was harder than I thought....."
He stood up and walked over to the receptionist's desk. "Here." He threw the clipboard and pen at her, both of which she barely caught.
"Th-th-thank you, sir." She stammered. "P-please sit down and w-wait. The d-doctor will be r-right out."
Just to spite her, the thief began restlessly pacing across the waiting room, Baka still under one arm.
***
After half an hour, Bakura was becoming frustrated, to say the least. "Do they think I have all day?!" He hissed angrily and the receptionist cowered behind her computer.
Much to her relief, his name was suddenly called from a door leading further into the ventinary hospital.
"Baka?"
oos: Review review review! ^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^
Click on the button! ^_^
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Macaroni and Cheese
"What the hell do you mean, 'I need an appointment'?!?" Bakura slammed his fist down on the desk of the receptionist at the Animal Ark Hospital. "I want to see a doctor for my dog. NOW!" The young woman behind the desk flinched involuntarily.
"You need to schedule an hour-long appointment for a routine checkup. Only emergencies are taken immediately because they are more important."
Bakura let fly with a stream of curses in Ancient Egyptian before calming down enough to request the earliest hour-long appointment available.
"Tomorrow at 9 AM with Dr. Gordon."
"Fine."
"Your dog's name?"
"Baka."
The tomb robber, still carrying Baka, marched huffily out the vet's office and grumbled all the way home.
"I can't believe those baka mortals ordered me around like that... Bakura, the greatest tomb robber in the history of Anicent Egypt, need an appointment? I don't think so, bakana kusos don't know who they're messing with...."
Bakura fumbled with the key to the door, managed to flip it around the right way and shoved it into the door, twisting it at the same time. The door unlocked with a small 'click' and swung open. Baka, relieved to be home and not at the vet's, wriggled out of his grip and vanished down the hallway.
Deciding he didn't care whether anything was destroyed anymore, the ancient thief took out a box of Kraft Maceroni and Cheese for dinner. He ignored the happy box, knowing somehow Ryou made it so he could, too. Instructions? He had no need for instructions! How hard could it be to make Maceroni and Cheese?
It was obvious that he needed some type of pot..... Bakura rummaged around in the cabinets for ten minutes before he found a stainless steel shiny pot. It reminded him of knives..... anyway... what did he do now? He was stuck.
Then, just to 'to see how Kraft made their macaroni and cheese', he decided to follow the instructions. Let's see- it was either the stove or the microwave. Either might set the food on fire, which would be very lovely. An evil grin stretched across his face. Then again, he needed to eat- Bakura chose the stove.
Boil 6 cups of water.
That was a difficult sentence to follow by itself. Boil? What the hell did that mean? He found a dictionary and opened it to the B's, flipping through the pages until he reached the word 'boil'.
Definition #1: A painful, circumscribed pus-filled inflammation of the skin and subcutaneous tissue usually caused by a local staphylococcal infection. Also called furuncle.
Bakura wrinkled his nose in disgust. Perhaps this was the WRONG definition.
Definition #2: To turn liquid into gas with extreme heat.
His eyebrow raised. This sounded fun. But how hot did it need to get? The tomb robber scanned the list of words on the page quickly and found another: boiling point.
Definition #1: The temperature at which a fluid is converted into vapor, with the phenomena of ebullition. This is different for different liquids, and for the same liquid under different pressures. For water, at the level of the sea, barometer 30 in., it is 212 [deg] Fahrenheit; for alcohol, 172.96 [deg]; for ether, 94.8[deg]; for mercury, about 675[deg]. The boiling point of water is lowered one degree Fahrenheit for about 550 feet of ascent above the level of the sea.
Bakura had no idea what the f*ck the phenomena of ebullition was, but he saw that for water to 'boil', it needed to reach 212 degrees, whatever they were.
Just then he spied a little dial on the stove that said Clean - Off - Warm - 200 - | - | - | - 300 - | - | - | -400 - | - | - | - 500 - Broil in a circle.
"Hmm..." he mused outloud. "Those lines stand for numbers, and the numbers must be degrees. He reached his hand out and turned it a little to the right, then looked back at the paper. The tomb robber shrieked in surprised as one of the ranges on the stove clicked before a small blue flame appeared.
"Ooh..." Bakura mumured, entranced by the flame. Ten full minutes passed before his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he was starved.
He left the flame on, because it was pretty, and retrieved the measuring cups. This part was easy. Ryou had taught him that much. He filled the cup six times with water and dumped it each time into the pot. He read the next direction.
Stir in Macaroni.
Easy! Bakura opened the package of noodles and poured them carefully into the pot, which was now emitting small bubbles. He looked at the box again.
Boil 7 to 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.
He placed the pot on the stove and waiting impatiently. The water didn't seem to be doing anything. After five minutes, Bakura poked the pot with a finger and yelped, withdrawing it hastily when it was burnt.
"I guess it's working, afterall." He said to himself, while running cool water from the tap over his finger. He got a wooden spoon and stirred the macaroni. While it still had a minute left, he read the next direction.
Drain. Do not rinse. Return to the pan.
Bakura's eyes brightened. Yes! He knew what that meant, too! Feeling immensely proud of himself, the thief took out a yellow drainer from under the sink and meticulously poured the noodles into it. The water hissed as it ran through the drainer and down the drain. He then took the drainer and poured the damp noodles back into the pot.
Then another direction.
Add 1/2 cup margarine.
Margarine? What?
He took out the dictionary again.
Definition #1: A fatty solid butter substitute consisting of a blend of hydrogenated vegetable oils mixed with emulsifiers, vitamins, coloring matter, and other ingredients.
It sounded like a disgusting concoction. But there was a word he actually recognized: butter. If margarine was a substitute for butter, than butter could be used as a substitute for margarine..... right? Bakura decided to try it and took out the butter. He had been wondering how it was possible to actually measure out 1/4 cup of butter when he saw the markings on the package. Thank Ra! He took out a knife, one of his favorites, actually, and cut the butter. He dropped the small piece into the pot. The tomb robber watched it dissolve for a moment, then looked for the next direction.
Add 1/4 cup of milk and Cheese Sauce Mix.
Hey! They were cheating! Those were TWO directions, not one! Oh well... it was still simple. Bakura fetched the measuring cup again and the milk from the refrigerator. He poured the white liquid into the '1/4' cup and in turn dumped that in the pot. Then he took the Cheese Sauce Mix and ripped off the top. He tossed the cheddar into the pot and read the last and final direction.
Mix well.
Effortless. The tomb robber used the spoon again to stir up the Macaroni and Cheese. He sniffed the air hungrily and was pleased to note the heavenly scent that drifted out of the pot. He knew he could make it without help! Of course, he might have looked at the box once or twice, but the rest was all him! Bakura couldn't wait for it to cool off and bolted it down in five minutes flat.
"Ah...." he sighed in contentment. "I am a good cook."
The graverobber gave the pot to Baka for her to 'clean' and stripped down to his boxers. (Aithril: *_*) He fell into bed, exhausted.
*Too much brain power, I suppose...* was Bakura's final thought before he floated off to dreamland.
(A/N: No doubt in Bakura's dreamland, there are people dying, rivers made of blood that you are free to sip at anytime, and knives that pop out of the ground like daisies.... -_-;; I wouldn't be suprised.)
***
The next morning, Bakura woke up with Baka sound asleep, her chubby body pressed against his back.
"SHIT!" He suddenly yelled and she jumped up, baying at the top of her lungs.
"What time is it?" He shouted frantically and leaned over to check the clock. "8:45?!? Crap!" The tomb raider leapt out of bed and dressed in clean clothes. He ran a brush through his hair twice to remove the huge knots, then sat down to eat breakfast. Bakura looked at the round kitchen clock that hung above the doorway. "Only 10 minutes now! No time!"
He set down a bowl on the floor and filled it with the 'free sample' of dog food he had picked up the day before at the local supermarket. Baka eagerly inhaled the whole meal in two seconds. Bakura grabbed something called a Breakfast Bar and tucked her under his arm. Doing a balancing act, he locked the door, tucked the key in his pocket, and slammed it shut behind them. He estimated they had about five minutes left and practically sprinted to the Animal Ark Hospital. Along the way, he ripped open the wrapper of the Breakfast Bar with his teeth and crammed it into his mouth. He managed to swallow the foul substance as he climbed the steps to the office.
Bakura threw open the doors and strode inside, glaring furiously at the receptionist (a new one this time) as if the fact that he had almost been late was all her fault.
"Name please?" She said without looking up. He jumped, then realized she was talking to him.
"Bakura Ryou."
The woman looked up at him, smirking. "No, honey, your dog's name."
The tomb raider's eye twitched spastically, and even she noticed that. He growled softly, and took a deep breath. "Baka."
"Ok," The receptionist said, nervous now. "You'll just have to fill out this form and then Dr. Gordon can examine your dog." She held out a clipboard and pen with shaking hands.
Bakura muttered something under his breath and snatched the materials away with one hand. He stalked off to a chair directly across from the desk. He raised the pen, about to start, when he felt the receptionist's stare on him. The grave robber slowly raised his eyes from the floor to her eyes, a slow smirk spreading across his face. The woman gulped and began typing hurridly at the computer, her gaze never leaving the screen.
He sneered in satisfaction and picked up the form again. Lucky Ryou had taught him to write in Japanese.
FORM:
Dog:
Full Name: Baka
Nickname: Baka
Mother: No clue
Father: Haven't the faintest.
Gender: Female
Spayed or Neutered? (Y or N): What the hell?!?
Age: I have no idea.
Breed: I don't know!
Coat Color(s): Black, white, and brown
Eye Color(s): How could she have two different eye colors?! BOTH of her eyes are brown.
Height: No bloody idea!
Weight: I'd guess around 35 pounds.
Shot History: Huh? She's never been shot as far as I know.
License Number: She doesn't have one. That's what I f*cking came here for.
ID Chip? (Y or N): No
Owner
Name: Bakura Ryou
Age (In yr.s): 5,000
Address: 98 Section A
Len's Apartments, Japan (AN: How DO you write addresses in Japan? Or phone numbers for that matter? Oh well... here goes my best guess! hehehe LOL!)
Phone Number: 318- 373- 4109
Credit Card or Check?: Money? This costs money?
A standard check-up costs $100 to have the doctor examine your dog and there will be additional costs if shots or any medicine is needed.
Clip your check to the paper below or wait until after to pay with your credit card.
END FORM
"Well...." Bakura muttered. "That was harder than I thought....."
He stood up and walked over to the receptionist's desk. "Here." He threw the clipboard and pen at her, both of which she barely caught.
"Th-th-thank you, sir." She stammered. "P-please sit down and w-wait. The d-doctor will be r-right out."
Just to spite her, the thief began restlessly pacing across the waiting room, Baka still under one arm.
***
After half an hour, Bakura was becoming frustrated, to say the least. "Do they think I have all day?!" He hissed angrily and the receptionist cowered behind her computer.
Much to her relief, his name was suddenly called from a door leading further into the ventinary hospital.
"Baka?"
oos: Review review review! ^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^
Click on the button! ^_^
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