A/N: I had a bit of writer's block thinking up a plot for this, but thanks to WriterCat I was able to pin one down. Many thanks to anyone who reads this!

"Oh boy, oh boy!" Flora bounced in her seat. "Today is going to be amazing!"

I sighed. "You've been saying that ever since we got in the car."

Today Flora Reinhold, the worst home cook I knew, was going to take a cooking lesson.

The moment Professor Layton and I had seen the advertisement for, "Jacque Elmisure's Cooking 101", we knew it was an opportunity we couldn't waste. So, we clipped the form, filled it out, and sent it in.

Flora, unaware of the reason behind this sudden enrollment, was ecstatic.

"I can't wait to show the teacher my skills! He'll probably be so impressed he'll beg me to teach the class! And then a television station will give me my own show and I'll be sooooo rich I won't have to live with you guys anymore!"

I, who had been paying no attention whatsoever to her little fantasy rant, simply nodded and said, "Mmmmhmm, I'm sure."

Fifteen minutes and a bunch of, "OH BOY," outbursts later, we arrived.

Flora flung open the Laytonmobile door and jumped out, looking around in awe. "Wow! This is amazing!"

I sank a little in my seat. "Professor, do I really have to take the class with her?" I whispered to him while Flora was distracted. "Cooking's not exactly my thing."

He chuckled. "My boy, it's a gentlemanly courtesy to escort a lady to any event."

I interpreted that as: "Someone needs to make sure she doesn't burn down the building."

Sighing, I got out of the car and walked past Flora. "C'mon, we don't want to be late."

"I'm so—"

"Don't"

"Bonjour! Welcome to ze class! I am your teacher, Jacque!"

Flora squeaked in excitement while I rolled my eyes at awful accent. We'd paid 25 pounds for this?

"For ze first class we weel makeone of ze most fabulous desserts: crème brulee."

Wait, didn't that involve fire?

My hand flew up. "Sir," I asked anxiously, "is that safe?"

"But of course! Ze great Jacque would never pick a dangerous assignment. Now, let us begin!"

We were handed ingredients and recipes. I took a deep breath. You can do this, Luke, just follow it, and you'll be okay.

I began measuring and mixing as I prepared the crème brulee. I glanced over at Flora's station and was horrified: in less than 20 minutes, she had trashed her kitchen with eggshells, flour, and some mysterious goop. To top it all off, she was adding two-and-a-half cups of sugar when the recipe only called for half a cup, plus two extra teaspoons for the two servings we were making.

"Flora, what the heck are you doing?"

"The recipe," she answered happily. "Adding in a cup of sugar, and then two more cups, but that time I add the sugar in with a teaspoon."

That made absolutely no sense whatsoever. No wonder her cooking was so bad.

Finally it was time to torch. I did surprisingly well, while Flora nearly burned her station down.

Jacque, obviously annoyed with her, decided to taste her food first. He took a bite and…

"Zees eez the most 'orrible thing I 'ave ever tasted!"

Flora's mouth dropped open. "But…"

"No 'but'! I weel try Luke's."

I panicked. If Flora's was bad, how would mine be?

Jacque spooned some brulee out of my dish and tasted. "C'est très magnifique!"

I watched as he danced around: I was a good cook!

I beamed at Flora, but winced at her expression: dagger eyes.

Looked like I was in for a rough ride home. Oh well, she could always take up knitting…

A/N: If Flora is such a horrible cook, I'm scared to think what would happen if she took up knitting… *shudders*