Please Stop Using the Vegetables Like That...

Louis rolled up his sleeves.

“Alright. Let’s get to it.”

Elaine blinked, surprised by the sudden confidence in his voice.

He immediately headed for the countless baskets and crates scattered around them.

“Hmm... potatoes... cabbages... no...”

Elaine crossed her arms.

“Mind telling me what exactly you’re looking for?”

He spun around.

“Well... the ingredients, obviously. For a proper crawfish gumbo, we need some very specific things...”

She raised an eyebrow.

“And those would be...?”

Louis took a deep breath.

“Well, crawfish obviously. Definitely okra. Seafood stock. Then the Holy Trinity.”

“The what?”

“Onions, celery, and green bell peppers.”

He scratched his chin.

“We’ll also need a whole bunch of spices. Besides salt and cayenne pepper, parsley, thyme, garlic, and most importantly: bay leaves.”

Thoughtfully, he turned in a slow circle, scanning their surroundings.

“But until we’ve found all the ingredients, we’ll probably be out of time...”

As if in answer, a deep rumble echoed behind him.

Bright blue sparks flickered across the countertops and tables around them, drawing in the light like a vortex.

One after another, the ingredients Louis had named emerged from thin air.

He picked up a green bell pepper that had popped into existence right in front of him.

“Nicely done,” he said, turning to Elaine.

The witch crossed her arms and looked away.

“That wasn’t me...”

“But then who...?”

A booming laugh rang out from where Lord Crumbly sat atop his flour-sack throne.

One arm was extended, the last traces of magic fading as he lowered it.

“THE REQUESTED INGREDIENTS ARE PROVIDED! NOW... COOK!”

With that, he fell silent again, sitting motionless on his throne.

Louis gave him a brief nod.

At least the giant cookie plays fair. I’ll give him that.

He turned back to the ingredients and immediately began slicing the first bell pepper.

For a few seconds, Elaine simply watched him before placing a hand on her hip.

“Hey, pervert... what should I...”

“That pan over there.”

“W-what?”

Louis pointed to a large cast-iron skillet.

“Can you heat it up? Not too much.”

“Uh...”

“And add a splash of oil.”

“...O-okay. Sure.”

Elaine stared at him in confusion as she lit the pan with a snap of her fingers.

But Louis didn’t even notice.

He was already crushing a clove of garlic beneath the flat of his knife before finely mincing it.

“Good. Now the okra,” he called to Elaine.

“T-the okra...?”

“The long green things over there. Slice them into rounds. And don’t be alarmed, they’re a little slimy.”

Elaine grabbed an especially long pod.

“A long, slimy thing...”

Her usual mischievous grin immediately appeared as she held up the okra in front of her face.

“That size ought to look familiar to you, right? And slimy too. I bet you’re thinking...”

Louis glanced at it.

“Hm? Yeah, exactly that one.”

“...”

Elaine blinked.

“I said...”

“Watch your fingers while you’re cutting.”

“Uh... yeah. S-sure.”

Puzzled, she started slicing while Louis was already busy making the roux.

Her gaze kept drifting toward him as her mind raced furiously.

She looked around the ingredients.

“Hm... there has to be something here I can use to get him...”

That was when she spotted two particularly large onions.

Her grin returned instantly.

“Attempt number two...” she muttered, holding the onions in front of her chest as she stepped beside Louis.

“Hey, groper! Bet you’d love to get your hands on these and...”

Louis’s focused gaze flicked briefly from the pan to the onions.

“Ah, perfect! Dice them as finely as you can. Then do the celery too.”

“...”

“The finer, the better. Everything goes into the roux once it’s dark enough.”

“...O-okay.”

Perplexed, she lowered the onions.

The knife moved across the cutting board.

Chop. Chop. Chop.

Her brow furrowed, visibly irritated by what was happening.

“No. Not like this.”

Elaine jumped.

“Uh... what?”

Louis briefly lifted the pan off the heat and stepped behind her.

“Let me show you.”

His hand closed around hers.

“W-what are you doing?” she squeaked, quickly trying to recover her teasing grin. “So you’re finally groping me after all, h-huh, pervert?”

But as his hand guided her delicate fingers into the proper position, and she felt the warmth of his touch, her heart gave a strange little leap.

Her grin faltered.

“Hold it here. Then move the knife like this,” Louis said calmly.

The blade moved.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Louis watched the onion intently while Elaine’s face grew hot.

“See? Much easier.”

“Mmhm...” was all she managed to squeak out.

Then he let go of her hand and returned to the roux.

Elaine stared after him in disbelief.

Then, growling under her breath, she bit down on her own finger.

“Crap...“