This is a shift day. There are two updates today.
"Technicolor Wishes & Hi-Def Dreams"
15. Foodies
After they'd spent the majority of this previous jump on their own, finding themselves waking up in the same room was a blessing. Rachel had been the first to get her senses back, and when she spotted Puck sitting there, she could already tell something was off about him.
"Hey, I'm here," she went to take hold of his arm. "Are you alright?"
"I busted my ankle on those damn heels," he groaned, looking down.
"You did?" she was shocked. "Let me see, I couldn't even tell," she went to inspect the ankle.
"I can still walk, it just hurts like hell."
"We need to get you some ice, and…" He looked around the room.
"Rachel?" She turned to him and he pointed around. "I think you'll find some." She hadn't even bothered to stop and try to figure out where they were. When she did though, she saw they were in a kitchen. It was large, with several appliances, stations.
"Oh." She stood and went to one of the refrigerators to find ice. She had just closed her hand on the handle when the giant kitchen was invaded by a number of people in aprons and chef coats. She looked to Puck, but he was already on his feet, his face never showing the pain he was in. They'd been dropped into yet another world, and he was going to find out what that world was, the better to get them out of it and hopefully back home. "No chance they'll give us a pass for injury," she muttered to herself.
"Alright, contestants to your stations, please?" a girl with a headset called out. Rachel looked around; how were they supposed to know which stations were theirs? By the time she'd asked herself, everyone else except her and Puck had gotten to their places, in teams of two, which left one space for them. She breathed relief for the fact that this was one problem resolved, and also because she was getting to work with Puck.
"You can cook, right?" he muttered at her while the 'hosts,' the two in the chef coats, called out the instructions for the challenge.
"Mostly," she replied. "What can you make?" she asked and he smirked.
"Cupcakes?" She almost poked him in the side for that one. She was well aware of his 'contribution' to the bake sale a couple years back.
"Can you follow my lead then?"
"Now that I can do," he smiled, and she was distracted by his eyes until she heard the hosts tell them to 'go!'
"Wait, what are we supposed to do, I wasn't listening!" she whispered in a panic, looking around.
"Look, there's a box," he pointed to their station and opened it. She almost screeched. Inside the box, along with a selection of vegetables and seasonings and other ingredients, there was also a whole chicken.
"I can't," she shook her head. "I don't eat it, I don't know how to make it, and I'm not going to cut it in pieces!" She was working herself into a proper panic. He stopped her by taking hold of her hand.
"Hey, breathe. You're not alone. You've got me, so just do like you said and tell me what to do, I'll cut it. I've seen my mother do it before. Don't think of it as a chicken, think of it as the thing that could make the difference between being stuck here and getting to go home." She paused, taking a breath.
"Fine," she nodded, frowned for good measure, then breathed out again. "We should wash our hands, first."
She didn't really have much to tell them in the matter of taking the chicken apart, and she could see he looked unsure from time to time, but he was careful, not hasty. Looking at the clock, she could see they still had plenty of time.
"We could do a soup," he told her, putting his knife down.
"A soup?" she repeated.
"Yeah, with vegetables, and pasta, and chicken. I kind of remember my Nana's recipe, I watched her do it so many times, I just have to find the right things. With my luck, I'll end up poisoning the judges."
"No, you'll do fine," she decided, nodding. "These last few jumps, you've been amazing. I'm the one who's been useless."
"You're not useless. Never. Not here, not anywhere. Now let's make soup."
It was incredible how fast the time could get away from them as they worked, but they were getting along, and their soup was coming together. Rachel couldn't help but let her eyes move to the other stations, to see what the contestants on either side of her were making. It didn't look too complicated compared to the soup, which reassured her. After the panic, her competitive side had returned to the surface, and then they were in business.
The plates were readied, and Rachel put the finishing touches. "As long as we don't get eliminated that's good enough for us to get out of this place, right?" Puck asked her.
"Forget elimination, we're winning this thing," she looked at all the plates with a determined smile on her face. "How's your ankle?" she thought to ask.
"I'm trying not to think about it," he admitted. "If they could throw us into some kind of hospital show and make me lie down for a while, I wouldn't mind."
"Hopefully they'll listen," she looked up. It was hard to know where to address these pleas, but they'd gotten their wish once, so she had to think there was some force behind this.
Their team was the last to be called up for the tasting. Rachel took the lead in explaining their dish and making sure to highlight the concept of simplicity.
The judges had conferred for a minute before calling up the teams again. They would announce the winner of the challenge, who would get immunity from the next elimination challenge. Rachel grasped Puck's hand at her side, waiting to hear the names. It wouldn't be their names obviously, but they would still know it was them, so all the judges needed to do was to call them…
Before the woman had gotten to calling out those names though, the noise had invaded their heads: they were leaving, and they wouldn't get to find out who won. If not for the noise in her head, Rachel might have thrown a fit.
TO BE CONTINUED (TUESDAY)