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Your Christmas cookies turned out great for once! There was no burning or dropping of the batter and now you have dozens of cookies just waiting to be eaten or given out as gifts. However, as you leave the cookies to cool and go about your business, the smell of gingerbread seems to follow you, no matter if you made gingerbread cookies or not. A strange feeling as though someone is watching you takes over and from time to time you swear that you can hear a strange little voice saying the same thing over and over. “You can’t catch me”. The feeling passes after a few hours, but it might be best to avoid gingerbread for the rest of the holiday season…just in case.
Baking and cooking might have seemed like odd hobby choices for Maxine, who was perpetually unruly and impatient. The truth, however, was that she enjoyed combining things to make things, and baking was a particularly exact science, which posed a fun challenge to her. There was something oddly pleasant about all the rigor and strict requirements combining to make something wonderful. When the timer in the St. Mag's kitchen was running, she slipped into a peculiar zen state where it was just her and the timer. Everything seemed to just go away as she waited. Why she was patient and watchful when food was on the line and not much else was a mystery.
In any case, Maxine had just finished baking a nice big load of chocolate chip cookies. She set them on the cooling rack and gave a cheeky little chuckle as she surveyed her handiwork. They were perfectly firm without being too crunchy, and they were soft and gooey without being dissatisfying. Truly, that was a tricky balance to achieve, but she was sure she had done it. And they were loaded with chocolate chips too! Awesome. The awesomest cookies ever. Awesome cookies of awesome. Confident that she had accomplished what she set out to do, she scribbled a note and left it near the cookies:
"Maxine's Cookies. Do NOT touch without approval, or I'll hack your fingers off!"
<3, Maxine"
That would surely do the trick. Granted, the others were most likely used to Maxine threatening bodily harm against them at this point, but the point still stood: if anyone touched these cookies without her permission, there would be hell to pay. Satisfied, she nearly skipped off to do other business around the school.
As Maxine neared a lounge in the St. Mag's dorms, a peculiar gingerbread smell made its way to her nose. Sniffing pointedly, she said, "Who made gingerbread?" The responses were variations on "No," "What are you talking about," and "Buzz off, Maxine." This made her quite indignant. "Well gee, then why do I smell gingerbread?! Which of you lardasses is sitting on some sweet, sweet, spicy gingerbread?!" Once again came the "no/what are you talking about/Maxine are you high" responses. "Come oooooon! It's there!"
No one else seemed to smell the phantom gingerbread, and eventually Maxine gave up with a head full of steam. While walking down the hallway, she got that weird feeling prickling at the back of her neck, like someone was following too closely. She turned around, but no one was there. Meanwhile, from where she had been facing before, she thought she heard a voice: "you can't catch me."
"Th-the ******** was that?!" she said, jolting a little. Not scared, just startled! Honest! The voice came from the other direction now. "Okay, really? I'm gonna catch you, you trash prankster! And if you touched my cookies, I WILL saw your fingers off, whether or not you're ready for it!" She began running down the hall, narrowly dodging other unfortunate occupants. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"
Once again, the voice came from the other side. "Okay, seriously, where are you?! Quit running away!" She then charged back up the hallway, her feet thunderously pounding the floor. "I can too catch you, wherever you are! I'm a badass!" After a wild goose chase, she stopped, puffing and panting. "Fine, b***h, you win. But I swear to god, if I find your secret gingerbread stash, I'm gonna eat all of it it, and then I'm gonna find you and sit on you with my lardified a**. Got it?"
There was no response. Whatever was bugging her had left. That was fun, she guessed, but now she really needed to make sure no one was harassing her dear cookies. She returned to the kitchen, and her delicious chocolate chip children (?) were all present, accounted for, and intact. "Don't worry, cookies, you'll be safe in my belly, and no creepy gingerbread freak is gonna steal you from me. Capiche? I mean, I'm not gonna eat all of you at once, but y'know!" Then she pitched up her voice. "Yes, Maxine, we love you very much and are honored to be eaten by you! The food spirits inside us are all very happy!" It then occurred to her that she was talking to her cookies. Oh well, whatever. It was like talking to plants, right?
In any case, Maxine scooped her happy cookies into a bowl and huddled over them protectively as she brought them to her room. Yes, it got her some stares, but she didn't care. No gingerbread freak was going to mess with her again!
