As the final echoes of her first live-streamed experiment dissipated into the ether of the internet, Lisa Loud stared at her computer screen, her eyes widening incrementally as the view count rolled into the four-digit range. "Ah, the intoxicating allure of quasi-celebrity status," she mused, her voice dripping with the kind of dry wit that could turn an ocean into a desert.

A bass-heavy West Coast rap track started pumping from her radio, filling the lab with a rhythm that seemed almost antithetical to the scientific setting. Lisa bobbed her head minutely, the closest she'd come to dancing all day. "Ah, the acoustic representation of cultural sentiment," she remarked, "Or as the average intellect might say, 'This beat is sick.'"

From her playpen in the corner, Lily let out an enthusiastic "Coo!" and giggled, her tiny hands clapping together. Her laughter acted as a momentary antidote to Lisa's often self-imposed emotional austerity.

Just then, Lincoln passed by the doorway, pausing briefly as his eyes darted from his sister, to the computer screen displaying the live-stream analytics, and then to the strange assemblage of beakers and tubes on the lab table. He shrugged, a silent acknowledgement that in the Loud house, the bizarre was simply business as usual. "Well, you're the scientist," he said, before sauntering off, saying, "And speaking of science: I'm off to paint that model solar system again, hopefully this time without any, ahem, mishaps like last time."

"Paint…? Hmm…." Lisa's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she picked up a bottle of paint thinner from the shelf, holding it up next to a can of Cherry Coke. "For the layperson, what I'm about to attempt might seem like magic. But remember, as Arthur C. Clarke once proclaimed, with a few liberties on my own part, magic is merely science that hasn't yet been explained. And explain it I shall."

Setting the stage for her next grand experiment, shutting the bedroom door and setting everything necessary upon a plastic table, she couldn't help but think that this would be the one to really rattle the cages of conventional wisdom. After all, in the world of science, audacity was often the mother of invention.

Turning back to her computer, she initiated another live stream. "Good evening, denizens of the World Wide Web. Prepare yourselves for another journey into the labyrinthine corridors of scientific inquiry. Tonight, we're turning paint thinner into Cherry Coke. Buckle up."

Lily cooed again, this time clapping her hands as if she understood the gravity of what was about to unfold. And maybe, in her infinite infantile wisdom, she did.

Just as Lisa was about to delve into the specifics of her next grandiose experiment, the door burst open with a kinetic energy that could only belong to one person. "Yo yo yoooo, what's the science queen cooking up now?" Lynn Loud barrelled into the room, her eyes scanning the paraphernalia scattered across Lisa's lab table.

"I could go for a Cherry Coke or five before the big game against the Sterling Falls Wallabies. The Kangaroos need their star player fueled up!" Lynn declared, flexing her muscles theatrically for effect and pointing her thumbs at herself.

"Ah, Athletic Sibling Unit, you've serendipitously stumbled into a situation most fortuitous," Lisa began, adjusting her glasses. "I'm in the process of transmuting paint thinner into Cherry Coke. However, the standard procedure for distilling benzaldehyde, a key component of artificial cherry flavoring, can take upwards of twenty-fo—."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, can the Pig Latin and gimme my pop," she interrupted, feigning a yawn for added emphasis.

Lisa smirked. "Ah, impatience—the hallmark of the athletically inclined. Fortunately for you, I've developed something that might solve our temporal dilemma." With a flourish, she unveiled a sleek device labeled 'Toonforce Chemical Catalyzer.' "This little marvel can speed up chemical reactions a hundredfold. If all goes according to plan, we should have sufficient benzaldehyde synthesized within the hour."

Lisa turned back to her computer, her eyes meeting those of her digital audience. "For the scientifically uninitiated, our goal is to convert the primary volatile organic compounds in paint thinner—specifically, toluene and acetone—into the chemical components of Cherry Coke. This involves a number of intricate steps, including distillation, catalytic conversion, and finally, carbonation and flavoring."

She held up a diagram, meticulously hand-drawn to illustrate the chemical pathways involved. "We'll start by separating the toluene and acetone using fractional distillation. Then, we'll convert toluene to benzaldehyde through a process known as side-chain chlorination followed by hydrolysis. Acetone will undergo aldol condensation to yield mesityl oxide, which will serve as a flavor modulator."

"...What?"

With a slap to the forehead, Lisa said, "I'm going to turn this deadly paint thinner into a refreshing beverage."

"Oh! Oh oh, yeah, yeah, sorry!" Lynn twisted a curl of her hair and said, "I promise, I'll pay attention, sis!"

Yet as Lisa spoke again, Lynn fidgeted in the background, at one point picking up a beaker and pretending it was a trophy, lifting it above her head and mouthing, "We are the champions."

"Once we have our benzaldehyde," Lisa continued, seemingly unfazed by her sister's antics, "we'll mix it with mesityl oxide, add carbonation, and voila, what was once paint thinner will be transformed into a palatable Cherry Coke. Of course, the Toonforce Chemical Catalyzer will expedite these reactions, making it possible to complete this experiment before Lynn's athletic contest."

Lisa paused, looking directly into the camera lens. "Science, dear viewers, isn't just about understanding the world—it's about changing it. And sometimes, that change comes in the form of turning industrial solvents into popular carbonated beverages. So let's get started, shall we?"

Lynn, seizing her moment, jumped into the frame, flashing a grin at the camera. "And let's make it snappy! The Kangaroos don't have all day!"

Lisa rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. A quick twist of the wrist unscrewed the cap of the paint thinner can, and both immediately recoiled as the acrid fumes wafted into the air. The odor was an unholy marriage of nail polish remover and gasoline, tinged with the sharp tang of industrial regret.

Lynn coughed dramatically, fanning the air in front of her face. "Whoa, sis! I can't drink this! Even if it'll smell just as foul comin' out later on anyway, if you catch my drift. Heh heh!"

"Sister Uni—... Sister Unit, you won't be drinking the paint thinner, but rather the result of extensive distillation and chemical reactions of one of its core substances."

"In En—"

"In English, that means I'll take one of the many things that makes it what it is, and change it into something else."

Lynn blinked, "Soooo, like magic?"

"Yes," Lisa replied, her voice tinged with annoyance. "But it's imperative we handle it with utmost caution. The vapors are highly toxic."

Just then, Lily, captivated by the flurry of activity, began to toddle toward the source of the intriguing new smell. Lisa's eyes widened. "Lily, no!" In a swift motion belying her typically stoic demeanor, she scooped up her youngest sister and handed her to Lynn. "Would you be so kind as to place her in the crib? I'd prefer not to include 'infant sister succumbs to toxic fumes' in the experiment's list of outcomes."

As she was scooped up and carried off, Lily waved her tiny fist in protest, but her objection was met with laughter from Lynn. "Ha! Looks like someone's already got the competitive spirit!"

After ensuring Lily was safely out of harm's way, Lisa returned to her lab table and activated the fume hood, creating a protective barrier between them and the volatile chemicals. She carefully poured the paint thinner into a glass distillation flask connected to a condenser, part of an intricate arrangement of glassware that would isolate the individual components of the liquid.

"All right, commence distillation," Lisa announced, flicking a switch that initiated the heating element beneath the flask.

Lynn, sensing her cue, stepped up to the plate—or, in this case, the camera. "Okay, folks, here's the play-by-play! Lisa's got this glass thingy filled with nasty goop, and she's, uh, cooking it?"

Lisa sighed, but continued her work, adjusting the temperature settings and monitoring the gauges. The paint thinner began to bubble and froth, and soon enough, a clear liquid started to drip from the condenser into a receiving flask.

"We've got action!" Lynn shouted. "The goop is moving through this twisty tube and—oh man, it's turning into water or something!"

Lisa glanced at the camera, her eyes practically rolling into the back of her head. "For the scientifically literate among us, what Lynn meant to say is that we're isolating toluene from the paint thinner through fractional distillation. The toluene has a lower boiling point than the other components, allowing it to be separated."

"But wait, there's more!" Lynn interjected, her eyes wide with excitement. "The water thingy is filling up! Are we gonna make Cherry Coke or what?"

Ignoring her sister's misinterpretations, Lisa began to meticulously record her observations, her eyes darting between the receiving flask and her notebook. "The initial phase of distillation is nearly complete," she said. "Next, we'll proceed to catalytic conversion."

Lynn shrugged, clearly not understanding a word but reveling in the spectacle of it all. "You heard the doc, folks! Whatever she said is about to happen, and it's gonna be awesome!"

Indeed, the distillation was a success, or at least appeared to be.

With the distillation phase successfully completed, Lisa turned her attention to the next crucial step: catalytic conversion. "Now that we have isolated toluene," she began, positioning the camera to capture both her face and the elaborate setup on her lab table, "we will convert it into benzaldehyde through a two-step process. First is side-chain chlorination, followed by hydrolysis."

Lynn, still wielding her makeshift microphone—a pipette she'd found on a nearby shelf—jumped in. "Alright, sports fans, Lisa's about to do some chloro-whatsit to the stuff we just cooked. Sounds like a halftime show, am I right?"

Ignoring the inaccuracy, Lisa picked up a vial of chlorine and carefully added it to the flask containing the isolated toluene. The liquid turned a pale yellow as the chlorine reacted with the toluene. "Chlorination is underway," she announced, her voice tinged with the excitement that only a scientist could muster over a chemical reaction.

"And boom goes the dynamite!" Lynn exclaimed. "Or should I say, boom goes the chlorine! We got some yellow action happening here!"

Lisa engaged the Toonforce Chemical Catalyzer, placing the flask into the device's receptacle. "This catalyst will speed up the reaction by lowering the activation energy required for the chlorination process," she explained, pushing a large red button on the device. Instantly, the machine whirred to life, its internal mechanisms humming with a kind of cartoonish vibrancy that belied its scientific gravitas.

Within moments, the liquid in the flask cleared up, indicating the completion of the chlorination process. "Excellent," Lisa muttered, scribbling notes into her journal. "Now, onto hydrolysis."

Lynn was already ahead of her. "Get ready for some hydro-thingamajiggy, peeps! Lisa's about to add some H2-Oh Yeah!"

Astonishingly, Lynn had it right. Lisa blinked, slowly removed her glasses, and rubbed her eyes. "And somewhere in the universe, a macroscale biological entity has diffracted through a solid door," she said, half to herself and half to the camera.

Shaking off the momentary shock, Lisa proceeded with the hydrolysis. She added a solution of sodium hydroxide to the flask and activated the Toonforce Chemical Catalyzer once more. The machine buzzed and beeped, its lights flashing in a sequence that seemed almost choreographed.

"As the hydrolysis reaction occurs, the benzyl chloride we obtained from the chlorination will be converted into benzaldehyde," Lisa narrated, her eyes locked onto the changing liquid in the flask. Soon enough, the liquid took on an almond-like aroma, indicating the formation of benzaldehyde.

"Whoa, it smells like marzipan in here!" Lynn piped up, sniffing the air exaggeratedly. "Is that what we're going for?"

"Indeed, that aroma confirms the presence of benzaldehyde," Lisa said, nodding approvingly. "We've successfully converted toluene into benzaldehyde, one of the key components for our Cherry Coke synthesis."

Lynn looked at the camera, her eyes wide with genuine surprise. "Did you hear that, folks? We actually did a science!"

With a successful synthesis of benzaldehyde under her belt, Lisa shifted gears to the last phase of her grand experiment: creating the Cherry Coke itself. "We're now approaching the finale of this chemical symphony," she declared, prepping a new flask filled with sugar water. "The time has come for carbonation and flavoring."

Lynn, practically vibrating with anticipation, hovered next to her. "Hurry it up, Science Queen! The game starts in thirty minutes, and I gotta have my Cherry Coke!"

Ignoring Lynn's impatience, Lisa connected the sugar water flask to a carbon dioxide tank. She opened the valve, and bubbles immediately fizzed into life within the liquid. "Carbonation complete," she announced, twisting the valve shut.

From her crib, Lily watched the proceedings with wide-eyed fascination, her tiny hands gripping the bars as if yearning to taste the concoction.

"Now, for the pièce de résistance," Lisa said, adding a carefully measured amount of benzaldehyde and a few drops of red food coloring to the carbonated water. She swirled the flask gently to mix the ingredients, and the liquid turned a satisfying cherry-red hue.

Lynn could hardly contain herself. "Is it done? Is it done? Gimme, gimme!"

"Patience," Lisa cautioned, but her eyes twinkled with success. She poured the newly created Cherry Coke into a beaker and handed it to Lynn.

Lynn took a tentative sip, her eyes widening as the flavor hit her taste buds. Then, throwing caution to the wind, she downed the entire beaker. "Whoa! This is actually good! Like, 8 out of 10 good!"

"And it doesn't taste like paint thinner?" Lisa asked, half-joking.

"Nope! Nothing like it!"

Just then, their father, Lynn Sr., passed by the lab's entrance. "Did I hear someone say Cherry Coke? You know, Lisa, you should consider making some specialty sodas for Lynn's Table! Maybe we could get a whole franchise going!" He clicked his teeth and finger-gunned his daughter down. "Just something to keep in mind, eh? Eh? Ayy, that's my girl!"

Lisa scoffed at first, dismissing the idea as beneath her scientific pursuits. But then, the dollar signs in her eyes practically materialized as she considered the profit potential. "Interesting," she mused, quickly jotting down in her notepad, "Follow up on paternal parental unit's suggestion for gastronomic establishment."

Lynn took another long gulp from a freshly poured beaker. "Not gonna lie, I half-expected this to either kill me or make me sprout an elephant trunk or something."

Lisa chuckled. "Ah, the ever-present risk of unintended outcomes. A hazard in any scientific endeavor."

As Lynn bounded out of the room, Cherry Coke in hand, ready to face the Sterling Falls Wallabies, Lisa looked around her lab of a room, her gaze falling on Lily, who was still watching intently from her crib. "Don't worry, young apprentice," she said, smiling at her youngest sister, "There's plenty more benzaldehyde where that came from."

Lily cooed and clapped her hands, as if she understood the magnitude of the day's achievements.

And so, as Lisa prepared to sign off from her live-stream, she pondered the day's extraordinary events. From the synthesis of benzaldehyde to Lynn's surprising grasp of a scientific term, and even the potential commercial applications of her experiment, it had been a day of unexpected triumphs and peculiar family interactions—a day that exemplified the chaotic, unpredictable, but ultimately rewarding world of scientific exploration.

"Until next time, dear viewers," she said, looking into the camera one final time. "Remember: in the grand tapestry of the universe, science weaves its own unpredictable patterns. And sometimes, those patterns taste like Cherry Coke."

Author's Notes: Note, this is ultra-simplified. Don't read this and then go out and start boiling paint thinner and pouring whatever results into a can of carbonated water and think you'll survive. This is just for fun, with a fleeting kiss on the cheek of realism. Trust me, things WILL get loonier. I debated whether Lisa would try to synthesize LK-99 or create cherry coke for this chapter, and I decided on the latter because the LK-99 hype passed before I regathered the will to write on. Sad! We could've had flying cars and colonies on Proxima centauri by now if it was real. Yes, by NOW. You can trust me.

Thanks to Alejindio for the cover art— IF YOU COULD SEE IT. This website has been around for 24 years now, and its current form has been in place since roughly 2007-2010. How is it still this daftly designed?