You have been waiting for this. @harto has been hinting at a special episode to come, and a different kind of special than the Thanksgiving episode. Which was cute, you have to give her that.
You eagerly wait for the YouTube page to load. Ugh, and an advertisement. Whose good idea was that? At least she's making some money off this.
Hannah's face appears, beaming, with two other smiling women who wear matching miniature veils made of white netting, and rainbow feather boas.
The familiar tinkly music plays. Fast cuts between a series of poses resembling shots from a photo booth, and shots of the brides alternately whapping Hannah over the head with oven mitts. A champagne cork pops. The "My Drunk Kitchen" title card's letters curl into sight.
"On this very -- " Hannah starts, and the scene jumps as she retries. "This is a very special-- " A champagne cork blows behind her head. "Bachelorette party!" she concludes. She gestures at the kitchen. The bachelorettes smile and wave.
"My friends Lila and Monique are getting married next week," Hannah tells you, trying for serious and hitting seriously drunk. Already. This is going to be a hell of an episode.
"What makes a wedding?" she asks. "Weddings are important. Love. Family. No H8!"
A photo of Lila and Monique holding signs at a protest somewhere flashes across the screen.
"Drinking." Hannah winks and a glass of champagne appears in her hand. It has a swizzle stick in it. The top of the swizzle stick is shaped like a topless bride.
"A wedding is important because it brings us all together as a family." The bachelorettes look at each other fondly and kiss. "Also, wedding presents. And..."
You have an idea of where this is headed. "Wedding cake," you whisper as Hannah toasts the webcam and announces, "Cake."
"A wedding cake is perfect. Wedding cake is magical," Hannah says. "Wedding cakes are better than all other cakes, because they're made of love. Also, you get to smash them in people's faces, which is better than love."
"A cake has … a recipe!" Hannah says triumphantly, and leans close to the laptop, clearly looking on the internet.
She starts the oven.
You watch in fascination as Hannah gathers the components she thinks are needed to construct a wedding cake, with the help of the giggling bachelorettes.
There are now three empty champagne bottles lined up on the counter. You have lost count of the number of popping corks you have heard. Three times as many people means at least three times as much drinking.
Monique tips the last of a bottle of champagne half into Lila's cup, and half all over Lila's white shirt. "Wedding dresses are usually white," Hannah says.
"Red wine stains. Fact! Champagne comes out," Hannah tells you, and them.
Lila appears in someone's spare purple t-shirt. It's a good color on her. She pours herself another glass.
"Second. Buttah! And sugar." Someone has clearly now defined "cream" to Hannah, because she explains: "It turns out that cream means to mix your shit together until all the lumps are gone. Who has that kind of time?"
She and the bachelorettes take turns beating the butter and sugar with a fork. "Does that shit look crammed?" she asks. "Creamed," she corrects.
A few seconds later in video time, she shows the bowl to the camera. That shit has been creamed. Crammed. Whatever. The stand mixer stands lonely and proud, totally unused, in the background. It's just as well. As drunk as these ladies are, a serious mixer could cause a serious injury.
A large and picturesque glop of the mixture has splattered on the tip of Hannah's nose. She licks it off. "Mmm, creamy."
"Next, open the champagne," Hannah instructs. More fumbling. "How are we out of champagne?"
"Next, you open your backup wine. It is important to match your wine to your clothes. WINK." Monique, still in white, holds up a glass of white wine. Lila, in purple, holds up red wine. "Cheers!"
A hand rescues a falling bottle before it spills all over the laptop.
"Clean as you go!" Hannah says brightly, mopping up the shards of eggshell and yolk with a paper towel. "Step three. Have enough eggs."
"Why do we have no more eggs!" she yells. A clock wipe, and the empty egg carton in her hand is full again. "Step three: Have wonderful roommates who go to the bodega and get your drunk ass a dozen eggs at midnight."
"Be sure to mix your eggs in completely," she says.
A few clips of dishes dropped and a glass of wine later, Hannah has produced the sort of olive-green blender that might either have been bought new in the 70s or used from a thrift shop.
"When it's hard to mix by hand, you can use the blender," she says, and everything goes in.
A few notes of a theme song you swear you recognize play over the sound of the whizzing blender. You finally place it as the "Will It Blend" theme song when she pours the suspiciously fluffy glop back into the bowl.
"Vanilla!" she says brightly, pouring a dollop in.
"If you don't have vanilla, you can use whiskey or rum," Hannah says confidentially. She shows the labels of bottles of both and pours generous slugs in.
"This recipe is supposed to be easy," Hannah says in vexation, face in the laptop again. Her hat is askew, her face very pink. She waves a yellow box. "Is this stuff baking soda or baking powder?" Fortunately, before anything can get too extreme, a bachelorette locates a jar of actual baking powder, preventing any ill-advised substitutions.
"Flour! Who needs to sift flour?"
All the fluffing from the blender has resulted in so much batter that it will not fit in one cake pan, even after it's collapsed some from the way the flour goes in. An auxiliary cake pan, and then, in desperation, a foil roasting pan, are called into play. Monique looks at Hannah's distribution of the batter, shakes her head, and empties fully half of both round cake pans into the roasting pan. This leaves enough room on the edges of the cake pans that you think -- hope -- they might actually not flow over.
The roasting pan goes on the bottom rack of the oven. The twin round pans go on top.
"Always set your timer," Hannah says, and does set it right after a few false starts.
The recipe says to use a clean broom straw to test whether the cakes are done. The bachelorettes forestall disaster by insisting that Hannah use a knife. The cakes go back in the oven. Hannah clowns with some of the empty wine bottles.
And the cakes are out! The cakes are … good god.
The twin round cakes have formed mountains in the middle. In contrast, the great big cake in the foil baking pan has completely collapsed, and there are crevasses all across it. The tips of the round cakes are scorched, and all of them are lopsided.
"Well," Monique says. "Well, well, well."
"Icing!" Hannah says brightly. You hold your breath. Hannah and something complicated like fondant would be an absolute disaster. You don't know whether you want to see it, or want to spare poor lovely Monique and Lila the pain. This isn't actually going to be their real wedding cake, is it? You hold your breath.
Whether fortunately or unfortunately, the world will never know what Hannah would make of fondant (at least, not in this episode). Hannah produces a can of prepared icing. It is the fun kind, with the little rainbow chips embedded in it. This is great for the kind of party where none of the people attending have a mental age of over, say, seven years old. It might not be quite the thing for an actual, grown-up, serious wedding, no matter how many rainbows everyone is wearing.
"The recipe says to spread pudding or jam between the layers. For elegance," Hannah reports. "Elegance."
They -- and therefore you -- take in another long shot of the cakes in all their saggy, puffy, uneven glory.
"There's going to be elegance all up in your FACE," Hannah says as she scrapes at the edges of the first circle pan with a pie server.
The cake pans do not give up their prisoners easily. A series of clips shows Hannah attacking them with first the pie server, then a knife, and finally forks.
At last the two round cakes are out and sitting more or less on plates. There are scratches, slices, and veritable divots where some of the cake is still stuck to the pan. Did they even grease the pans? You don't remember seeing them grease the pans. Greasing the pan is very important. Now you're thinking like Hannah talks.
"Grape!" Hannah says, displaying the jar of jelly. She dips a finger in, and licks it. "Mmm."
There is a flurry of glopping, splopping, stacking, spreading, and spackling. A second can of frosting is brought into play. The top layer of cake is turned over.
In the end it stands on the counter sort of like an iceberg, if icebergs came in rainbow polka-dot. Its layers are not quite lined up, the top layer tilting, with funny lumps, dips, and patches where the damage from the probably ungreased pan is still visible. The cakes were a little too hot when the icing went on, so the icing has melted -- not completely, but enough that thicker patches have started to slide, the chips leaving little rainbow rivulets in their wake. In lieu of a proper cake topper, two of the topless bride swizzle sticks have been stuck in.
"It's a … cake," Hannah says, staring at it. The bachelorettes stifle giggles.
Hannah brandishes a scarily large knife. In a twinkling, it's been cut, and three pieces adorn three mismatched plates.
Lila and Monique feed each other bites of the cake, which has turned out surprisingly airy for all the abuse it's taken.
"Thiff iff delifuff," Hannah says around crumbs.
"I don't know why they say 'a piece of cake'," Hannah tells the camera. "Cake is hard. But cake is important! Just like weddings. Peace out!"
The credits roll:
Lila and Monique as Getting Married
Hannah as Creamy
Roommates as Lifesaving
Grape Jelly as Elegant
Frosting as Rainbow
Cake as Still Delicious
Professional Cake-Bakers as Hired by Lila and Monique
Hannah re-appears. "That was last week. Lila and Monique got married yesterday. It was perfect." She presses her hands to her chest and swoons.
A picture of Lila and Monique cutting a professionally decorated cake appears. They are radiant, and their cake is indeed perfect. The warm glow stays with you as Hannah re-appears and signs off.