AUTHOR'S NOTES: On the ML, there was a challenge just to liven things up. I'd show you the whole message, but I deleted it so I don't have it. But basically, it was to write a story with these elements: The sentences "Dear God what is that thing?", "What he doesn't know won't hurt him", and "Yea, verily like a motherfucker". The objects: strawberries, a cheap cigarette lighter, can of paint.
Well, This is what I spit out (anything to avoid studying for Chem). Of course it's a little cleaned up.
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It was Cloud's birthday. No, I won't tell you how old he is, was, or whatever. Suffice to say that he was old enough for jokes about Viagra or cracks about 'over the hill'.
Everyone decided to celebrate it. With a surprise party, complete with catering and balloons and a pop-up Vincent out of a huge real cake. Everyone pooled their money together, and came up with the overwhelming sum of... 100 gil. Turns out that Cid wasn't the only one with choice cuss words.
Heads were put together and brainstorms roiled and blew overhead. Finally, Tifa popped up with a brilliant idea! "We'll cater it ourselves!", she crowed. "I'm brilliant! I used to cook for the Seventh Heaven, I know we can pull this off!" Barret cleared his throat, not wishing to hurt her feelings and point out that the people had come to the bar for drinks, not her cooking. So, the next day she happily bopped off for Wall Market.
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The door banged open. Tifa cheerfully upended a huge basketful of groceries on the floor. The very, very dirty floor. "Watta!", she energetically yelled, and rubbed her hands gleefully in anticipation. Little did she see Barret and Vincent sneaking up on her, and little did she feel them crack her firmly across the neck, effectively disabling her for the immediate future. They tied her up and threw her in the closet. Everyone sighed in relief. They gathered around and eyed the pile of food. Strawberries? Lettuce? Butter? Candy? A huge turkey? and the last thing... Cid poked it with his spear and shook it frantically as it latched on. "Dear God, what is that thing?", he wanted to know as he tried to disengage the monster from his pet weapon. Vincent took out his gun, took careful aim, and shot it. "I believe... it's called a lobster. It used to be a delicacy when I was young, but I haven't seen it since until now."
Nanaki nosed it. "How're we supposed to cook it with a huge hole in the middle of it?" They all glared at Vincent. He shrugged helplessly. "I'm not the cook, don't ask me." Cid pinned him with Sephiroth's patented Look of Death (tm) and threw the poor crustacean into his hands. "Yea, verily, like a motherfucker, you are now." (Add a few more choice words and you'll get somewhere close to the whole sentence.) Vincent looked at the limp bug-like thing and sighed. "I am NOT cooking the rest of that crap, though." He whirled and stalked off in majestic dudgeon to the kitchen.
The rest looked at each other. Cait Sith cheerfully juggled the turkey. "I'll do this one!" Cid volunteered for the strawberries (sugar and berries couldn't be that hard, right?) and Nanaki... well, he went to finish some business outside in the backyard. After all, could you imagine the size of the hair net he'd need to use?
Inside the kitchen Vincent was uncharacteristically red-faced and swearing. He'd cracked the lobster open and dumped it into boiling water, and now it wouldn't come out of its shell. He knew he'd seen Lucrecia do it many times before... but...
Behind him, Cait Sith turned around a little too hastily and knocked a whole row of pots and pans and knives over. "Shit!" Cid poked him. "Keep in mind you're not $#%@# human, you @#$@ Shinra exec moogle...", bending down to pick up the knives. The oversized moogle also bent over, knocking Cid over flat onto his face. (Add in a few more choice words...)
The oven dinged and Cait Sith leapt up. "The turkey's done!" he yelled exuberantly. He opened the door and drew it out, not needing an oven glove. He frowned, as much as a moogle doll thingie can frown. "It's the wrong color..."
Cid picked himself up from the floor and Vincent abandoned the lobster for a minute to look. Vincent sighed. "You burned it." (A few more words from Cid insert here).
Cait Sith waved his arms frantically. "I can fix it! I can fix it!" He drew out a can of paint. He opened it and liberally coated the black turkey into a nice shade of brown.
Cid read the label. "Glaze and varnish... Yeah, on all those %*#$ing cooking shows they put glaze on whatever they're baking. Put more on."
Vincent frowned down at the now brown turkey. "Isn't it supposed to be... more shiny?"
The moogle clapped his hands together (being unable to snap his nonexistant fingers) and swiped the Bic cigarette lighter out of Cid's headband. Ignoring Cid's profane protests, he lit it and held it near the turkey, the heat quickly drying it to a nice extra shiny gloss.
Vincent turned in despair to his lobster. Maybe he didn't try hard enough? With new zealousness, he attacked it with fresh force. The meat went one way, the shell went another... and the meat landed with a splat on the floor, rolling over and over and bouncing, collecting dust and hairs along the way. He eyed it. He looked over at Cait Sith and Cid. They were busily splashing more glaze on the turkey. Swiftly, he picked up the meat and washed it at the sink and plopped it back on the plate. *What he doesn't know won't hurt him...* he thought.
That night....
Everything went as planned. Tifa was woken up in time, not remembering a single thing. They managed to convince her that she really did cook everything- she just didn't remember it. She was suspicious at first, but then accepted their claims and smiled happily, preening. Vincent popped out of the cake, wearing little else but icing and a sash that said 'Happy Birthday'... and Cloud enjoyed his birthday dinner very much. Too bad he spent the next few days in the hospital.
The end.