FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Hey all...well...this story has been a bit comatose/catatonic as of late, or well, at least my writing has been these past few months one might also say haha, but it's not dead (not if I can change anything). Either way, sorry about being so sporadic, or perhaps untimely is a better word about it all, but maybe all I've needed is a good kick to the writing-rear so to speak....we shall see.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Things weren't so bad! This is OK...I mean, well...so far. Sure, I don't have much of a clue what Marion's cooking instructions are saying, but...I'm talking with Chris, that's good...the pup is even helping! Ben thought with a smile, casting a look over at the pup who was staring inquisitively at the dish.

They hadn't really spoken on anything important, but Ben was fine with that. The small talk was perfect for him. He wasn't here to ask Chris what he wanted to be in life, or how he felt about him or anything like that. No, it was simply about being around the pup, and if they could talk comfortably about the small things, then that was enough. For now at least. Even if those small things involved the kitchen.

"OK...umm, now pass the salt," Ben said, looking down at the brown mixture.

"Salt?"

"Yeah,"

"Dad doesn't put salt in it,"

"But it says salt right here!" Ben said, looking at the instruction on the piece of paper and scowling. He looked over and noted the pup's flattened ears--frowning a little as he did: Chris didn't think he'd been yelling at him, did he? "I mean...Oh! Your dad's instructions aren't really good honestly,"

Chris let out a small laugh and shrugged his shoulders, "Well...umm, I know he puts milk in it,"

"Oh...OK, can you go get the milk?" Ben asked as kindly as he could--he had to watch his voice, he really really had to watch his voice. He never meant to make Chris think he would raise his voice to him. And his own ears flickered at the thought of Marion's retribution coming down on him.

"Yeah, sure," Chris said, smiling a bit. He dug around in the refrigerator and noted that there were two types of milk--butter, and regular. He looked between them a few times before just grabbing one. Even as the creamy solution was added he wondered--upon realization--that maybe it had been milk from a can: evaporated milk his father called it.

This hadn't seemed like such a bad idea when they had just started. Both of them were hungry, and his father had left behind his recipe book. Ben had been quick to suggest they start on a meal with what they had in the fridge; laughing and telling him it would be a learning experience. The bear had started out really well it seemed, in fact, things could still end up well.

Chris was sure of that. He'd been called down to help with his first supper with the bear, and despite not knowing which type of flour to use (or milk, or setting on the stove) they might be able to make an edible meal.

And Ben was nice as well. He wasn't sure why the bear had called him down to help--his father never made him help. It wasn't that he minded, though he had to admit he would've been content still playing his game as well. Still, being with Ben wasn't all that bad. Getting to see the bear, how he lived his everyday life was more than interesting enough so far.

"You know....like I said at the beginning of the year...cooking is really like chemistry...." Ben said, shrugging his shoulders, "So...I shouldn't be terrible at it," he added, a perplexed look on his muzzle as he tried to scrape the pan with his spatula. It didn't move though. It should've moved! He'd sprayed the pan to ensure things wouldn't stick. Eventually he got it.

"My dad says the samething..." Chris replied, but his thoughts were a bit less optimistic than the bear's. He could remember his first year with his father, and his father's 'cooking.' Sure, it had gotten better, but it had started out with Chris being happy for the cafeteria's food. Now his father was great, and the cafeteria, well, his father made lunch for him as well. Even if neither of the older furs said it, Chris was sure that was due to Ben having told his father something about school food--scaring the wolf.

"And he's such a good cook, and he was a chemistry person in school as well...so really, how bad could this be?" Ben asked with a smile, "I think I'm getting the hang of this...it doesn't smell too bad...can you get out the onion?"

"Yeah, sure...I can chop it too while you do that if you want,"

"Are you sure?" Ben asked, looking over his shoulder to see the pup getting out a knife--which sent a tiny shiver of fear through him. What if Chris cut himself, what if the knife slipped, so much could happen. What if the pup cut a vein? Or an artery? Or sliced off his fing--Ben snuffled and he clamed himself when the pup nodded and smiled, "OK, just be careful," he said, giving his own head a small pat to make sure wolf ears hadn't sprung up More thoughts like that and I'll be turning into Marion

He looked back at his own task and tried his best, following the wolf's instructions laid out before him--adding an egg and watching it sizzle in the pan and over the meat.

"Why are you adding an egg?" Chris asked, looking back at the bear.

"It says to rig--" Ben began but stopped with a grimace. He'd skipped a step and moved on to a different meal! An uneasy laugh fell from his muzzle, "It seems like it'd be good...you know, I think your dad said something about it," he lied, not quite ready to tell Chris the pup might want to run for his life when the meal was finally done.

He wouldn't let that happen though! This wasn't college. He was an adult bear, it was time to man-up and cook a great meal. Not ramen, no microwaving, nothing from a box; just pure simple ingredients that would come together and be amazing. It couldn't be too hard--after all, those guys on _Chopped_could make delicious food from random stuff in a basket, so really, how hard could it be?

It made him cry.

The onion that is. Ben was glad the wolf had chopped it, because just adding it had tears in his eyes, which he made sure the pup couldn't see. It lasted for a few moments before he felt himself under control yet again, giving a sigh of relief. That had to be the worst part--the cooking blinding him, right?

Over the course of the next thirty minutes he began to realize how very foolish his thoughts were. The directions might as well have been a foreign language to him, not to mention he couldn't begin to tell the difference between a tea spoon or a table spoon--those had to be for fancy dinners he was sure.

Was this what some of his students were like in chemistry? The thought sent a pang of guilt through Ben, finally remembering what it was like to be in a new field. Still, he tried to rationalize it, after all, he was trying at least, and he was being thrown into this like a blind man with no knowledge. He at least was there to try and guide his students along the path, or to tell them when they'd messed up.

That had to make it different he thought. And he thought. And he thought.

"Uhmm Ben...it's smoking,"

It wasn't until Chris's voice brought him out of his daze did he realize the...'creation' in the pan was burning. He jumped to attention, murmuring a small curse under his breath as he scraped at the side with the spatula again.

It took him a moment to find the proper dishes, setting everything down--which was simply the 'creation' as he could only refer to it, some toast, peas right from the can. He tried to make it look official and proper for the wolf. The table was neatly set, with oven mits under the warm dishes, forks on top of folded napkins on the left side of the plate, salt and pepper in the middle, and all that sort of stuff that was usually ready for a proper home-made meal. Well, at least, that was sure how it looked from TV he had seen.

Ben smiled at the table and nodded, guessing it would do--hoping it would. He hadn't had much use for the kitchen aside from making Marion breakfast sometime back, or when he'd attempted to make breakfast for the family of wolves, though he didn't know how that had turned out. About the time he'd heard Chris yelling he'd been cracking a few eggs.

Of course, breakfast was an easy meal. Toast, eggs, juice, some bacon with simple instructions, nothing about it was very involved. And because of that, looking at everything before him did bring out a small feeling of pride--heck, it didn't look that bad really. Who knew, maybe it would even be pretty good! "Doesn't smell too bad...I guess,"

Chris took a whiff of the air and nodded, "Smells pretty good,"

And a compliment to boot! Ben felt his smile widen a little more, this time all the more genuine and less fearful. "Well then, I guess we should, uhmm...well, dig in, what do you say?"

"Sure..." Chris replied, looking down at the meal himself. It wasn't so bad looking, in fact, he was sure his father had done worse before. Well, maybe. That had been a rough first year with his father in terms of cooking. He'd never been half so confident as Ben had while cooking, always talking about how it would probably not be that great, but that he'd get better.

The bear had cooked for them before after all. Even if they hadn't eaten it, surely the bear wasn't so bad. The smell was a testament to that. Well, that and his father was letting him cook for him. No doubt his father had eaten the bear's cooking before. "So, are you used to cooking I guess, if you say it's like chemistry,"

"Oh...well...not too much. I can do things like hamburgers and such, but...things like this, homey style meals, I've never been too keen on. I just never learned. But still, just as you said, it's just like chemistry, right? So, I'm sure it's pretty easy," Ben replied with a smile Though just like in chemistry one wrong ingrident could make everything blow up...

He didn't voice that concern--and he was sure the pup didn't either, seeing as Chris took the brave first step of putting some onto his plate.

Ben couldn't deny the smell wasn't really that bad. It was even kind of mouthwatering really. Sure, it was a bit tough to get through with the fork, but nothing a bit of power couldn't help with. He took the first bite, and it wasn't quite so horrible on his tongue sitting there.

And then he bit into it.

It was strange. Not a good strange. Still, maybe it was just a bad spot. He chewed on it dutifully regardless. But it didn't get any better.

It got worse.

Much much worse. Ben couldn't help a small gag after a few moments. And when he tried to swallow, purely for the effort of getting it down, his stomach refused him. His mind told him to get through with it, that his pride forced him to eat the thing he'd created, but the rest of his body revolted against it. And strongly. Very strongly.

Ben didn't quite remember grabbing the napkin spitting into it. He was rubbing it over his tongue when he caught an image in the corner of his eye. Chris had his mouth open, the fork was getting closer, and closer...

"No, No, No, No, No, No!" Ben said quickly, and his paw shot forward, swatting the fork away from Chris's mouth; much to the surprise of the pup. His eyes were wide with something close to terror and at the pup's inquisitive look he shook his head back and forth--as if back from a war one might never truly recover from. "Do. Not. Eat. It,"

He didn't know how to describe it, there weren't many words for it. It was wrong though. Morally. He wasn't sure how, but it was. The thing in front of him had no right to exist, no right to be called food. It was deception. It wore foods clothing, its perfume even, yet when you got to know it, it lied to you. Told you it was your friend and stabbed you in the back--well, tongue--with a wicked smile. Throwing up might've made it taste better Ben thought with a scowl down at his--he admitted ruefully--creation.

Chris looked back down at the substance. The flaky crust reminded him of his father's onion crusted chicken, though the smell was much more like herb baked trout. Both were good, but when thought of together, it didn't quite make the cut. Combined with the fact that it was supposed to be a simple baked chicken in some sauce his father had made some years ago--well, the dish seemed a little more sour by the minute. After a second he poked it with his fork and some sort of juice leaked from the poke--that didn't seem right, not at all. Especially that it was red--chicken wasn't supposed to leak blood--right? They'd cooked it long enough, right? A new smell hit his nose, this time much like a stew of some sort. He set his fork down and cocked his head, "Did we mess up?"

"Chris...I wouldn't serve this to......." Ben said and tried to find the words. "I wouldn't serve this as cafeteria food,"

Chris's expression changed and he scowled along with the bear, "Oh...."

"Yeah....." Ben replied, knowing the pup didn't eat that vile creation too often either. Of course, he was slightly to blame for that. It was too be expected though. After all, with some of the things he told Marion about the school food, the overprotective father had been very quick to stop his son; though he was sure getting a home made lunch from the wolf was better anyhow.

"So...." Chris said, pushing the plate back to a safe-distance from his muzzle and looking around the room, "Well...we have cereal,"

"No," Ben said, shaking his head and standing up, "It's our first night: we're not resorting to cereal that quickly...we're men, we can survive,"

"We're not going to try again...are we?" Chris asked, not sure another experiment would be in their best physical interest. And he couldn't deny he was getting hungry; he didn't feel like waiting for another failed meal.

"No...heavens no..." Ben said, unsure they would ever pick up the skillet again. Instead he pulled out his car keys and smiled over at the pup, "We'll go out to eat,"