Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TP characters…Disney does!!

Notes: This takes place on Earth!

Clad in a pale pink apron that read, "Girls Rock At Cooking," Jim leaned against the inn's large marble countertop and sighed.

"Cooking is so boring," he muttered. He glared at the can of beans that was clutched in his hands. "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin blared dramatically from a nearby radio.

"Pour beans into a heated pot? Screw that!" he hissed after reading the printed instructions. Why wait for the pot to get hot when you could just heat the can? Made sense. Jim set the eye to Hot and placed the can of beans on top of it.

"Jim, sweetheart, how is the "chemistry" coming along?" Sarah called from the living room.

"It's still pretty gay," Jim replied, glancing at his mom's apron. Over the radio he could hear his mom make an annoyed snorting noise. The theme song of Godzilla, played by Led Zeppelin, continued to play. Jim closed his eyes and pretended that the monster was right in front of him. Godzilla would have been huge---its feet would practically destroy anything that was in its path. The teen could feel the beast's hot breath and…wait a minute---hot breath? Jim opened his eyes and gasped. The can of beans was quivering.

"What the---" he began. With a BOOM, the can exploded, sending cascades of steaming beans high into the air. The searing hot can shot up, hit the ceiling, and landed, unfortunately, on the teen's head. A bean-covered Jim flew back onto the floor, his butt making a dull whump on the hard kitchen tiles. Jim heard a faint sizzling noise. With each passing second, the noise increased. Then a scorching sensation on his head made the teen scream.

"Aw, SHOOT!" he yelped, violently shaking his head. The burned can plopped off his head. Gingerly, the teen felt the hair that fringed his forehead.

"Okay…that feels right…" he murmured, slowly moving his hand back. His heart froze when he felt a huge bald spot. With a squeal, he made a dash for the bathroom and locked the door.

"Jim? Could you please turn that music down?" called Sarah. Jim ignored her and turned to stare at his reflection. Beans covered his shoulders and practically everything below. His blue eyes widened in shock when he looked at his head. It was as he had feared it---he had a large bald spot in the shape of a circle. The scorched can had incinerated the hair underneath away.

"I look like a monkey!" he whispered hoarsely.

"James Pleiades Hawkins!" called his mother sharply. The teenager winced and slowly unlocked the bathroom door.

"Could you please turn down that horrible music?" Sarah requested, her tone suddenly softer now that Jim had appeared. Luckily, her son was standing far enough away that she couldn't see what had happened. Breathing a sigh of relief, Jim quickly turned off the portable radio and sagged against the cold kitchen wall. So--he was partially bald; surely he could hide it, right? Just then, the doorbell rang. There was a pause.

"Delbert! How nice to see you---hello, Petra and Erica!" gushed Sarah. Jim gritted his teeth. The Doppler girls could be funny at times, but now was definitely not a good time to meet them.

"Um, hello, Sarah. Amelia and I wanted to give you these flowers as a sign of our…er…appreciation for inviting us to Thanksgiving," the scientist replied. Jim heard his mom gasp at the sight of the flowers.

"These are beautiful!" she cried.

"Where's' Jim?" Petra piped up in her slightly nasal voice.

"In the kitchen, I think…" Jim's mom answered. Hearing this, Jim turned off the bright fluorescent light and flattened himself against the back wall. The two girls pounded off towards the kitchen.

"Jeez, it's dark in here," Erica muttered. She flicked the lights back on. Both girls gasped.

Petra burst into tears. "DADDY! There's a terrorist in the kitchen!" she wailed. She tore off for the living room where Delbert was trying to have a pleasant conversation with Sarah. Erica, who had more sense, crossed her arms and leaned against the marble countertop.

"Ya know what? I bet a terrorist could cook a pop tart better than you!" she said tartly, a faint smirk on her face.

Warm beans trickled down Jim's neck. "I think you're right," he muttered.

After the little episode about the "terrorist" in the kitchen, things calmed down a little. A shaken, tear-stained Petra was walked down the driveway by Delbert. Sarah was patting the girl on the shoulder all the while apologizing. From his upstairs bedroom window, Jim and Erica watched the whole scene.

"Wow, Petra can really be a weirdo," the girl announced, grinning.

"That's fine---we all know that, but what about my hair?" Jim snapped. He whisked off his Redskins cap to reveal the perfectly circular bald spot.

"Jeez, that'll be easy. All you need is a box of that hair growing stuff they sell at Safeway," she snorted. Jim rolled his eyes. Erica Doppler, while she could be pretty mature, still had a fourth-graders' know-it-all personality---sometimes.

"They sell that stuff?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah!"

The two stared at each other for a split second. Jim opened up his top dresser drawer and grabbed a handful of cash.

"Ha, ha---that's the first place I'd look," laughed Erica, upon seeing the teen's white undies.

"Shut up!" he hissed.

Jim shakily backed his mom's white minivan down the driveway. The asphalt crunched under the tires.

"Can you really drive?" Erica asked. She wore an uneasy expression.

"See and believe," he replied, diving a hand into his pocket. He felt his wallet and was about to fish out his driver's license when the van began to drift.

"Uhh, Jim…"

"Just a sec!" he grunted. He took both hands off of the steering wheel for a split second. It was too late. There was a heavy rolling sensation. With a scrunch, the minivan backed onto one of Sarah's prized ceramic bunny rabbits. Unfortunately, the back tires put too much pressure on the rabbit statue's body. With a loud POP, the gray rabbit's head flew off like a cannonball on steroids. It crashed through the Benbow Inn's pretty living room window. It made a perfect hole of a silhouetted rabbit's head in the glass.

"Aw, crap! Let's get out of here!" Jim cried.

"I guess you don't have a license," Erica huffed, her heart pounding. Jim just glared at her.

"If anyone asks, your mom did it," he announced.

"Jim. My mom's at a Navy conference in the Pentagon, stupid."

"Well…we'll find an excuse. But first, we'll get that hair growth stuff," the teen crowed, jamming his foot on the gas. The heavy van sped ahead, towards Safeway.

Hope this was funny---thanks to all who reviewed!! Give suggestions, too; I'll try to stretch this story on until November…lol. PLEASE review!! Thanx! ---Jackie99