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~SL
Prompt: Whisk
Goldstein, Anthony
"What are you doing?" Anthony surveyed the room. Flour had exploded over the kitchen counter and there was a glob on the ceiling that looked suspiciously like batter. Natalie, his lovely wife-to-be, stood with her back to him. She was hunched over the stove, stirring something that vaguely resembled stew.
"It's called cooking, Anthony," she said, turning to face him while brandishing a whisk awfully close to his face. "And I would appreciate it if you leave me alone!"
He sighed. "Nat, I know you were raised by magical parents. You don't have to try cooking like a muggle."
"It's how your mother cooks!" she squealed defensively, "And my soup is turning out just fine." Before she could return to her soup, however, Anthony snatched the whisk from her hands.
"Do you even know what this is?"
Natalie looked slightly bewildered. "It's a stirrer, of course." She reached for the object again, but he held it easily out of her reach.
"It's called a whisk and it is not used for stirring soup. And besides, with you wielding it, it could become a dangerous weapon." Anthony soon regretted his words when Natalie took out her wand, summoned the whisk, and proceed to use it to whack him on the head. He was right. In a witch's hands, a whisk was dangerous.