'…This is weird as hell.'

Stella nodded in agreement, staring down at their cookie cutters, shaped just the same as the people all around them, most of whom were already creaming their butter.

'…Are we gonna eat them?'

'I don't know.'

'If they eat them…that kinda feels like cannibalism.'

'Yeah, but…we don't really have a choice.'

'Oh, don't worry. We suck so bad at this that we won't create anything even close to them.'

'Not making me feel better, Duman!'

Duman sighed, staring down at their ingredients. He could think of a dozen ways he'd use them…but six of those ways involved using them to make weird face masks and scaring each other. Two others involved throwing the flour like snowballs. And that'd probably get them kicked out.

'We can figure this out…' Stella muttered, poking at the golden syrup. 'We can do this…wet before…dry…or dry first…what are we meant to do?'

Duman groaned, sagging back against the counter. Then, his ears pricked up as an idea struck him. Fumbling in his pocket, he grabbed his phone, thankfully unscathed from his earlier crash.

'Are you calling someone?' Stella hissed. 'Are we allowed to do that?'

'Who knows, but this is important, and we both know we'll fail at this on our own, we suck! Nobody magically becomes good at something just because the chips are down.' He dialled the phone, waiting with baited breath.

'…Hello? Duman?' Thank Darkar! He hadn't been so glad to hear Anagan's voice since…nope, actually, this was the gladdest he'd been to hear his voice!

'Thank god, I need you, and I need you not to ask questions.'

'Oh god…Duman, I'm not lying to the IRS again! How did you even commit tax fraud, you have no income!'

'No! No, this isn't gonna involve a swarm of bees or an iguana costume. Anagan, I need you to talk me through how to make the best gingerbread you know how to bake.'

'…What now?'

'I said no questions! Please, it's really important…'

'Okay then. What ingredients do you have?'

'Uh…a whole bunch?'

'Alright. Listen, get golden syrup, butter, ginger and cinnamon, and brown sugar.'

Stella grabbed everything, assembling it in the counter.

'Okay, now what?'

Anagan provided the measurements, and Stella squirted out the golden syrup, scooped out the sugar, and weighed up the butter.

'This good?' Duman snapped a picture of the measured ingredients, texting it to Anagan. There was a long sigh from the other end of the phone.

'Your syrup is overflowing, you'll add too much. Your sugar is clumped so you've only got about half the amount you need, and…you've measured over the bowl, so your spices have already gone in there. Clear them out and measure over the counter. And how's your butter?'

'…Buttery?'

'It has to be softened, or else it won't combine.'

'How do we soften it?'

'Thirty seconds in the microwave. Do you have one?'

'Uhhhhhhh…' Duman buffered for a minute, before spotting a microwave. 'Got it!' He scrambled across the arena, shoving the butter in and jiggling on the spot until it had finally softened. Did they have a time constraint on this…? Oh, hey, a giant clock. Yep, they had an hour and they were screwed. Nothing baked in an hour! What if it exploded! What if they exploded?! Unlikely, sure, but was it impossible? Actually, with their skill at baking, it might be a mercy on the culinary world.

'Okay, I have soft butter, what now?'

'Combine it thoroughly with the other wet ingredients, sugar and the spices.'

There was a minute of silence, and Anagan sighed. 'Put it in a bowl. Now put the golden syrup, sugar and spices in that same bowl. Now get a spoon, and mix it all together until you can't see any of the individual ingredients anymore.'

'Ohhhhh…' Duman dumped everything in and promptly began attacking it with a spoon. '…Anagan?'

'Yeah?'

'…What kind of spoon?'

'What do you- a wooden spoon, why?'

Duman looked down at the teaspoon in his hand. 'Ohhh…yeah, that's totally what I was using, for sure, just double checking.' He turned to hiss to Stella. 'Find a wooden spoon!'

'…Who are you talking to?'

Duman, panicked, couldn't think of a decent lie. Ogron was the believable liar. He was a fast liar. Not a believable one. '…Gantlos!'

'Gantlos just walked past me.'

'Not that Gantlos, another guy, also named Gantlos. Psh, obviously.'

'There are no other people named Gantlos, Duman…' Anagan sighed. 'If you don't want to tell me what's going on, you don't have to, but please don't insult my intelligence.'

'Sorry.'

Stella handed him a wooden spoon, and he began beating at the ingredients like they owed him money or had insulted Fear the Walking Dead.

'Okay, I think they're combined.'

'Can you see the ingredients?'

'In what sense?'

'Send me a picture.' Smart man. A few seconds later, after a quick text, Anagan sighed for the millionth time. 'You see those yellow streaks?'

'Uh…yeah?'

'What are they?'

'…Butter?'

'Was butter one of your ingredients?'

'…Yeah.'

'So can you still see the ingredients?'

'…' Duman attacked it once more, until his arms ached like he'd been carrying Gantlos around. Finally, all yellow streaks vanished, and he had to confess that this almost looked like food. A quick texted photo earned him the Anagan seal of approval, and Stella's face lit up.

'Duman, your friend is a genius!' she whispered, elated. 'We may actually have a shot at this!'

'And how are you doing over here?'

Duman quickly stuffed his phone down his shirt, whipping around to see the Sugarplum Fairy standing at their bench. They hadn't been told not to make any calls, but he felt it was probably frowned on, so he wasn't gonna get them kicked out!

'Heyo! Whattup?' He leaned on the bench, almost slipping in the leftover butter. He styled it out, nobody noticed.

'We are doing great!' Stella was so casual that she dropped contractions. 'Thank you for asking!'

'And what recipe would you be using?' The fairy inquired, leaning over to see the bowl. 'Oh my, that smells delicious!'

'Duman, what's going on there?'

Duman froze, crossing his arms across his chest and thus his phone as the fairy looked up in confusion.

'What was that?'

'I…have hiccups!'

'That was a voice.'

'I have speaking hiccups, it's a rare genetic condition.' Great excuse. Nobody was allowed to question medical conditions. And if they did, he could just report them. To whom, he wasn't sure, but he had such a great offended face that he could style it out.

'And what will you be doing next?'

Duman and Stella both froze. They hadn't no idea, Anagan hadn't told them yet! It might involve flour, but…what did they do with it?!

'Oh…' Duman shifted awkwardly. 'Wellllll…we…are gonna…we're gonna…'

Stella glanced to him, eyes wide, then sneezed. As she did, her arm flailed, knocking a full bag of icing sugar onto the ground. Choking sweetness exploded across the room, and Duman seized the phone from his shirt while everyone coughed and moved to clean it up.

'What do we do next?!'

Anagan, in an act that Duman would forever be grateful for, didn't question the sounds of pandemonium. 'Two cups of flour. Shake the bag gently, level it off with the back of a knife. Add a teaspoon of baking soda, sift it all into the bowl and mix it until you can't see flour.'

'I am sooooo sorry…' Stella helped clean up the sugar, surreptitiously tossing more up to help hide Duman.

'Thanks.'

'Knead it, roll it to five millimetres, cut it, bake for twelve minutes, gas mark five.' Anagan issued icing explanations so fast that Duman had to strain to hear, but he got it all out just as the sugar finally cleared and Duman had to stuff his phone back in his pocket.

'Thanks, dude, I love you.' He laughed awkwardly, turning back to the Sugarplum Fairy. 'Soo…we are going to take this flour…and sift it…into the bowl.' He followed Anagan's instructions as best he recalled, trying to channel the mental precision required to keep this on track. Five millimetres…how thick was that?

'Stell, how thick is five milimetres?'

'Keep rolling…keep rolling…keep rolling…there!'

Stella and Duman shot the Sugarplum Fairy their best 'we didn't cheat' smiles, breathing a huge sigh of relief as she finally left.

'I can't believe we're pulling this off…' Stella murmured, cutting cookies from the dough and laying them on the tray like her beloved children.

'I can't believe you're cheating.'

'This is important. Sometimes you gotta bend a few rules, right?'