(no subject)
It seemed easy enough, making the muffins herself.
All she had to do, after all, was follow the recipe. Simple, right?
Except for the fact that the recipe had been ripped out of a magazine and she wasn’t especially good at ripping things straight and some of the ingredients and subsequent instructions were, therefore, missing.
She preheat the oven -was that supposed to be a three or a five?- then set about mixing the ingredients, dumping things into the bowl and humming cheerfully. Half the measurements were gone, so she just fudged it, guessing what the numbers were supposed to be. Or -after some confusion and internal debate- deciding whether the recipe called for tablespoons or teaspoons of salt, vanilla and did that say baking soda or baking powder?
The batter came out a little lumpy and she completely missed the part where she was supposed to grease the muffin tins before filling them, but still. Derpy slid the pan into the oven, smiling proudly as she set the kitchen timer.
She had done it.
And now, the rest of the weather crew! They would be so surprised! When it was her turn to bring snack to the team meetings, she usually just picked something up at the Cakes’, or from Sweet Apple Acres, or even just from the farmers’ market. She had learned early on that her kitchen likely wouldn’t survive her cooking attempts, though she was never quite sure why - Didn’t she do exactly what the cookbooks said?
Sort of.
Sometimes she was impatient and rushed things.
But not that day! Not that day at all and the muffins would be perfect and--!
The smell of smoke jolted her back to reality.
The muffins were on fire.