Mini Episode #3: The Beast of Feasts
Day 3, 5:00 PM
"You think this will work?" Gordoff scoffed as he put on his apron, getting himself ready to beat Blake in her so-called cook-off. "We're just gonna cook dinner for everyone else, and that's it."
Blake began washing her hands on the sink nearby. "What, you think you can beat me, ya?"
The chef athlete facepalmed. "It's not that, I just find it weird that you want to make a friendly competition out of all of this."
The slav could only laugh at him as she began chopping up a few vegetables like carrots and some celery.
Gordoff watched all of her actions intently, before grabbing some potatoes and peeled them with a vegetable peeler that Chef had placed on the counter. "So... you cook often?"
"Yeah you could say that." Blake nodded, grabbing some spices from a nearby cabinet. "My pa taught me how to cook." She continued. She started to boil a pot full of water, beginning to make something that looked like vegetable soup of some sorts. "Well, what are you making?"
Gordoff merely shrugged, boiling the potatoes on his own pot. "Eh, nothing too special. Mashed potatoes, and maybe some steak using... that." He pointed to some meat that he thawed from the freezer a while ago.
"Oh cool." Blake nodded. She grabbed a laddle from where the kitchen utensils were being stored and began mixing the soup she was making. However, there was some point where she accidentally had her hand just by the side of the pot.
"Blin... blin- fuck!" Blake swore in Russian, then at English as she recoiled her hand.
Gordoff noticed this and ignored the potatoes he was boiling for a minute. "Hey, you okay?"
Blake shrugged it off. "Just burned my hand a little."
"Well, do you want me to go get a band-aid or something?"
"No, I'll be fine."
"You sure?"
"Of course." Blake bluntly told him before muttering at herself. "What an urod-"
Gordoff rolled his eyes playfully as he heard her mutter. "I take it as a compliment, thank you very much." he said sarcastically.
Blake laughed loudly. "That means you're an idiot."
"That's fantastic." Gordoff joined in the laughter. "At least I'm not the only idiot in here."
"What makes you say that?"
"You burned your hand because you didn't see it. Now that is what I call idiocy." He said.
Blake playfully rolled her eyes at him. "Your potatoes are burning."
"Ye- what!?" Gordoff shrieked, rushing over towards the pot and opened the lid, only to find the said potatoes all ruined in the pot. "Shit."
The slav laughed at his demise, only to smell something funny coming from her pot. "Blin!" she cursed herself as she could see her pot boiling too much to the point where the soup started spewing out of it. She quickly turned off the stove before looking at the other chef. "Alright. I guess we both lost this one."
Chef ran into the kitchen. "I smell something burning." He gave the two cooks a quick glare before changing into a shocked expression just by looking at the disaster their pots had fallen into. "What is this?"
"Uhh..." the two cooks looked at each other sheepishly before looking back at Chef.
"Help?" Blake asked.
Chef sighed. "Ugh. You two owe me this." He said as he began to help them cook, much to the relief of the two.
Little they know that Irene happened to pass by the kitchen. She looked at the interaction of the three, mainly to two teen cooks, with a slight frown on her face.
