Disclaimer- Sara? Not mine. Greg? Sadly, not mine either. .:sob:.
Summary- A dessert made out a vegetables. It HAS to be illegal or something. Vaguely GregSara
Author's Note- My teacher was making fun of me for not liking pumpkin pie and, even though I pointed out that it was a dessert made out of a vegetable. I decided that I liked the idea and wrote this very random fic. Greg seems slightly insane at the end, but oh well. Please R&R!
"Move, Greg." Sara said irritably.
Greg scooted over to one side and watched as Sara struggled to carry a bowl of mashed potatoes and a platter of rolls into the dining room.
"Need some help?" he called after her.
"No! I don't even know why you showed up this early, Greg, but I told you, don't touch anything."
Greg was leaning against a counter when she came back into the kitchen.
"Why not? I came over early so that I could help you." Greg insisted.
"Why did you think I'd need help?" Sara fired back, checking the stuffing.
"Because in about half an hour the whole CSI team will be over here for Thanksgiving dinner. And admit it, as much as you'd like to do it by yourself, you're just one person."
Sara threw up her hands in defeat. "Fine! Go and take the dessert to the table. But if I catch you trying to eat some, you're a dead man, Sanders. Got it?"
"Okay." Greg replied happily, bouncing over to the fridge.
Reaching inside, he pulled out two tan-colored pies.
"What kind are they?" He asked, passing Sara to go into the dinning room.
Sara rolled her eyes even though Greg couldn't see her. "It's Thanksgiving, Greg. What kind do you think they are?"
He came back into the kitchen. "Uhh…"
"They're pumpkin, you moron!" Sara exclaimed, brushing past him, hefting the stuffing to the table.
"Pumpkin?" Greg yelped, dashing into the dining room to join her. "You made our dessert out of vegetables?"
"Oh for Heavens' sake! You've never heard of pumpkin pie?"
"Of course I've heard about it! But I thought it was an urban legend or something! I didn't think anyone actually ate it!" Greg said, staring wide-eyed at the two pies on the table cloth.
"Oh would you just get a grip!" Sara yelled, storming out of the room to retrieve the turkey. "People eat it all the time!"
Greg called back to her. "Why?"
Sara counted to five in her head. "Why do you think, Greg?"
"Because they've been brain-washed."
Sara chose to ignore that little bit of stupidity and carried the turkey into the next room.
She found Greg about to poke the dessert. "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WOULD YOU CUT IT OUT?" She shrieked, hastily setting down her load and swatting his hand away.
Sara stormed back into the kitchen to take off her apron, Greg following her like a puppy.
"This seems like a pretty elaborate way to get me to eat vegetables, don't you think?"
"A way to get you to eat vegetables? Who do I look like, your mother?"
"You're right, even she wouldn't think of something as evil as this." Greg muttered to himself.
Sara shook her head at him in disbelief. "You're hopeless."
Just then, the doorbell rang. When Sara had hurried out to go answer it, Greg sneaked back into the dining room. Creeping over to the table, he leaned over to examine the two innocent-looking pies.
"I'm on to you. Sooner or later, you'll slip up, and then everyone will know what you really are!" he threatened.
With that, Greg left the dinning room, confident that the vegetable scum now knew its place.