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Gingerbread

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Goomblast had been in Zog’s kitchen for the past three hours.

“Dere iz no vay she iz gun be moch longer,” Zog complained, sniffing the air as the smell of meat pies and sweet pastries floated out from under his door.

“Ve said ve leaf him alone iffen he iz makink de food,” Khrizhan reminded him.

“Iz takink too long, Hy iz gun see vot’s op,” Zog insisted.

 “Hyu chust vant to eat de food.”

“Iz mine kitchen, Alexi, Hy ken eat some ov de food if Hy vants.” Zog stood up decisively, walked over to the door, and opened it.

“Goot luck,” Khrizhan muttered. Zog ignored him.

“Hoy, vot iz—“

Get out,” Goomblast bellowed. 

“Iz dot gingerbread?” Zog demanded. “Iz hyu making gingerbread? She is gun be here enny minute, und hyu iz schtill makink gingerbread—oh, iz dot de pie vit de beetles—ow!”

“Iz for de new Heterodyne,” Goomblast growled. “Get out. 

Khrizhan decided it was time to intervene. “She really iz gun be here enny minute,” he said, peeking over Zog’s shoulder into the room. “Also, ve dun know for sure—“

Aaaaaand there was a familiar sight. Every surface in Zog’s kitchen was covered in baking pans. Meat pies, bug pies, that looked like a plate of cookies… ooh, ginger snaps.

Goomblast himself was crouched next to Zog’s oven like a particularly large and toothy bird of prey, timer set up right next to him, already stirring something else in a big mixing bowl as he fretted at the temperature settings. “She schmells like a Heterodyne, und dot iz de best ve is gun get,” he said dismissively, opening the oven to check the color on the gingerbread really quickly. Khrizhan blinked as the aroma wafted through the kitchen, suddenly famished. Damn it…

“Look…” Khrizhan started. “Dere is no vay she iz—“ Goomblast growled. “…gun eat all dis,” Khrizhan finished over the growl. “No, she iz hooman, dere iz no vay—vait, vot did hyu tink Hy vos gonna say?”

Goomblast stopped growling and sniffed. “Hyu say she vos in fugue ven hyu meet,” he said stubbornly, apparently choosing not to answer Khrizhan’s question, and smacking Zog’s hand with the spoon as he reached for a pie before going back to stirring as though nothing had happened. “She vill be hungry.”

“Not dis hungry,” Zog said, gesturing to the room of baked goods.

“Did hyu tink Hy vos gonna argue about her beink de Heterodyne?” Khrizhan asked incredulously, “becawz Hy iz de vun who ektually met her.”

“Hy deesagree,” Goomblast said to Zog, with dignity, and still ignoring Khrizhan, he noticed. “Take hyu hand off dot cookie, Hy see hyu.”

“Ve need to move everything to de odder room, now,” Khrizhan said, taking his hand off the ginger snap with an internal huff. Of course he was only being selectively ignored. The world was not fair.

“Bot mine gingerbread izn’t done,” Goomblast complained, checking the color of what was in the oven again really quickly.

“She iz gon be here any minute,” Zog snapped.

“But—“

--which was when “Iz not like dot at all,” came through the walls. The three generals stared at each other for what was probably half a second too long, and then Khrizhan left the others to scramble, dashing through the door to get to the front room in time to interrupt Stosh before he unknowingly snarled anymore at the Heterodyne.

Show time.