[04] Cook For The King!

[Piper Juunanagou]

For the last several minutes, the soldier had bean wandering around the hotel and causing various pieces of the carefully planned architecture to explode into fiery clumps. In front of the woman, there were the remains of a marble statue whose head she had ripped off and punted through a nearby window. With a chuckle, Piper lifted a hand and blasted the headless figure apart with a burst of energy, causing its chest to erupt into dust and its limbs to be strewn about haphazardly.

I like this look. The woman mused as she glanced down at what remained of the statue—a pair of charred, mangled feet attached to the display podium. If I was more of an average person, I think I should totally go into interior design. She added as a grin spread across her light-skinned visage. But, eh, c’est la vie…

Carrying on with whatever business she had convinced herself she was attending to, Piper meandering down the back hallway until she came to a large set of double doors. Reaching forward, she clasped a hand around one of the ornate handles and gave it a few firm pushes only to find that it refused to yield. Lifting her gauntlet-clad fist, the woman clenched and unclenched her fingers a couple of times as a small sphere of energy crackled to life in front of her open hand. Once the sparkling orb was large enough, the woman shoved her hand forward and propelled it the rather short distance to the door.

With yet a further vibrant explosion, another part of the hotel exploded into far too many pieces to count. As Piper stepped across the threshold and into the posterior half of the lobby, she caught a fleeting glimpse of a sign on the other side of the door that read ‘Hallway Access – Push.’

“Ahhhh,” the woman remarked as she replayed the scenario in her head. “I guess I should have tried that,” she added apathetically as she traversed the large lobby. As she approached the front of the building, she noticed two individuals lounging on some of the luxury couches in a small sitting area near the entrance. The closer that Piper drew to the couches, the more she was able to convince herself that she hadn’t run into more programs or robots. Although the young woman was a stranger to her, the soldier recognized the black-haired youth from the insurrection in Central City several months ago.

“This is nice,” the young half-saiyan quipped to his companion as he continued to remain oblivious to the approaching woman.

“I’m sure you’re quite comfortable,” Piper remarked, prompting the youth to straighten up in his seat and shift around to face her. On the other couch, the girl snore softly—completely oblivious to the world around her.

“Well hello, Piper,” he replied after a slight pause. With a quick gesture to the open space on the couch next to him, he got comfortable again. Although she didn’t quite feel up to chumming up with someone on a couch, Piper shunted her anxiety to the back of her mind and sat down next to the black-haired youth and shot a quick glance at the youth’s sleeping companion. “Let’s just leave him be for the time being.”

Him? Piper thought as she furrowed her brow. After a few beats, she figured it was probably just something related to the carnival and Gamer’s sick fantasies.

“Sounds like an idea,” the soldier said with a shrug as she lifted her feet up and placed them on the expensive-looking coffee table that occupied most of the space between their couch and the other girl’s. “It’s Juno… right?” Piper asked as she began to recall the identity of her newfound company.

“That’s me,” the young man said with a smirk. “Weren’t you a redhead?” He inquired as Piper felt her page vibrate against her hip.

“Bingo,” the soldier responded nonchalantly as she awkwardly fished down between her body and the cushion in an attempt to reach the pager.

“Why the change?” Juno inquired as he diverted his attention to his own page.

“…Blondes have more fun?” Piper said with a shrug as she read out loud the words on the tiny screen. “Your event is active. Enjoy!”

“Really?” Juno groaned as the ground beneath the couch was inhaled by a pair of quickly expanding portals.

Before Piper could issue her own complaint, the sofa tore in half between the pair of contestants, and they were both shunted off to their respective contests. Gripping onto the arm of the couch and the side of her cushion, the soldier closed her eyes and squeezed the squishy material as she freefell through the swirling nexus. Fortunately for the woman, the plunge was rather quick and its terminus was a giant bale of hay that was kind enough to soften the impact.

Yea, because the grease wasn’t a pleasant enough scent. The woman thought angrily as she vaulted off the sofa and down onto the ground next to the bale of hay. Now I get to smell like a farm. She complained internally as she noted the numerous livestock and horses that were stabled within the oversized barn. Reaching for her pager, the woman gave its tiny screen a quick scan and noted that she was supposed to cook for some royalty.

“What the hell is this guy? The harvest king?” The woman shouted, her voice prompting some of the animals to grunt and fidget inside their cramped living quarters. “Oh, you know that was funny!” Piper groaned as she glanced down at her clothes and noticed that she was dressed in a yellow apron that covered most of her body, save for the lower half of her legs, her arms, and the area around her collar. Lifting a hand up to her neck, Piper gave the white collared shirt she’d be transplanted into a quick tug before moving up to her head to find out she’d be clad in a bandana of some sort.

“Well it’s better than a helmet or a damn neckerchief,” the woman remarked as she brushed off one of her long sleeves. In the process, she noted that she still had the gauntlet from the alien simulation on her right arm. “I guess some things don’t change,” she concluded as she walked over to the large double doors of the barn and proceeded to push them outward. As the dramatically oversized doors swung apart, the formerly dank and slightly musty barn was flooding with warm, uplifting sunlight.

A smile spread across Piper’s face as she lifted her arms to embrace the warmth, and even though she knew in the back of her mind that she actually wasn’t feeling anything, the sunlight was a welcome change from most of the drab atmosphere’s that she’d been thrown into in the past several hours. If she managed to escape from Kill Town with her life intact, Piper was certain she would have newfound respect for beaches and parks.

Still grinning from ear to ear, the soldier began to walk casually down the dirt pathway that led from the barn. About a half-mile away, she noted the massive castle that probably contained the king for which she was supposed to cook. With a groan, Piper began to jog toward the castle—her eyes focused on a small door guarded by a pair of medieval soldiers with pikes.

As she jogged down the path, the woman passed a few small farms that all seemed to be worked by young men in blue overalls, red bandanas around their necks, and backwards-facing, blue baseball caps. The further down the path she jogged, the more Piper realized that all the farmers shared not only identical outfits, but they were also completely identical in terms of their physical appearances: brown eyes and brown hair. Furthermore, they all seemed to be accompanied by small, brown dogs that were also identical—all the way down the white patches on their snots.

This is unsettling… The woman thought to herself as she decided to stop analyzing all the identical farms and focus herself back on the castle. As she came closer to the two guards, they both turned to face her and promptly angled their weapons so they crisscrossed over the doorway.

“Halt,” the guards barked in unison, prompting Piper to come to an abrupt stop a few yards away from the door. “What is your business here?” They inquired; their voices still completely in sync as they glared at the strange woman.

“You can’t tell?” Piper scoffed as she gestured toward herself with her thumbs. “I’m the cook,” she added with overplayed dramatics as the two guards turned to look at one another. After a moment of contemplation, they turned back to face her—their countenance still stern and unwelcoming.

“So you’re Miss Mama?” They asked in tandem.

“Well, duh,” the soldier lied as she rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. “I didn’t come all this way to be harassed by some doormen,” she glared as the two guards once again glanced at one another. When they turned to face her this time, their expressions were laced with fear.

“We’re sorry, Ma’am. We’re just doing out job guarding the kitchen from vagrants and people trying to smuggle in contraband,” they grumbled as they moved their pikes out of the way.

“Just be lucky I’m a nice person,” Piper shot back as she moved forward and made her way through the thick, reinforced door. As the door swung shut behind the woman, she casually made her way passed several crates and barrels of ingredients before arriving at a wooden door labeled ‘kitchen.’

I wonder if this is where I’m supposed to go? With a stupid grin on her face, Piper closed her gauntleted hand around the door handle and proceeded to throw open the door. Stepping through the doorway, the soldier found herself gawking at the castle’s enormous kitchen. The room—easily the size of a small house—was lined with more anachronistic appliances and cooking implements than Piper could count. The walls were hidden beneath countertops and cabinets, and in some cases, the shelves were full to the absolute limit. Looking up at the ceiling, the woman’s jaw almost fell open the moment she saw that there was actually a second floor to the kitchen, which housed even more appliances.

“This is ridiculous,” the blonde spoke, her voice echoing throughout the cavernous room as she walked over to a large island in the center of the tiled mega-kitchen. If it wasn’t for the fact that she’d been doing a lot more cooking in her time as an office worker, the soldier was certain she’d be having seizure right now as her brain tried to process the insanity that was the overstocked, super-advanced kitchen housed within a medieval castle.

“Vous êtes, Madamoiselle Mama?” The strange, incoherent words served to ground the woman back in reality. Glancing toward the other side of the room, the woman noticed that there was a man dressed in a full on chef’s uniform strutting toward her. The sleazy-looking chef was holding a clipboard in one hand and playing with his mustache with the other. “Vous êtes en retard!”

“Did you just call me a retard?” Piper gasped as she scooped a cleaver off the nearby island and prepared to tackle the chef.

“Oh…I see,” the man scoffed in the same language as Piper as he held his hands up in a show of amity. “I was expecting someone with your credentials to be a little more sophisticated,” he added before rolling his eyes and setting his clipboard down on the central island.

“Who are you?” Piper demanded.

“I am Jean-Claude Richard,” the man replied in his haughty, pompous accent. “I am here to…assist you and other appointed chef,” he added begrudgingly as he turned to look at the door that he’d entered the kitchen through a few moments earlier. “He should be here soon. I believe he had a short meeting with the king or something.”