fandomtownies | JGOB, Thursday Morning

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JGOB, Thursday Morning

It was possible cupcakes weren’t going to help the situation at all. But Stark wanted some and thought it entirely likely that others on the island would appreciate something as well. And the radio had mentioned something about weaponizing pastries, hadn’t it? He wasn’t entirely sure what that was about, but some cupcakes weren’t going to hurt. Unless he vanished. That might hurt. Although the radio had also mentioned something about crazy being a good defense, and he was sure that he could manage something in that area. That was why he had braved the rather deserted (and somewhat diminished) streets of Fandom this morning.

Unfortunately, when he arrived at JGOB it was even more deserted than the streets had been. No Jeff. No employees. No customers. And, since the shop had been empty since yesterday afternoon, no cupcakes (the last of those had ended up on the sidewalk out front yesterday). Only a handful of day-old and likely somewhat stale other pastries.

"Hello?" Stark asked as he nervously walked around the shop hoping for signs of life. There were none. It seemed abandoned. This wasn’t good.

Suppressing an urge to flail (at least momentarily), Stark started cleaning up. It seemed like the thing to do. Maybe the employees were just late. Or were hiding out from whatever it was outside that had blanketed the island. There was no reason to assume that they’d vanished. Just because that was the most likely explanation didn’t mean it was the correct one. And if they showed up, then cleaning up would only help them since they were already late.

He didn’t really expect them to show up. Not really. He kept glancing up hopefully at the door while he worked though, just in case. When things were clean and still the shop remained empty except for the solitary Banik, then the panic started setting in. At least it was mild. So far. Mostly it just led to loud and nervous humming. And arm motions most accurately described as flailing. And pacing. He ended up, eventually, in front of the ovens.

"I could bake!" he said to the empty pastry shop. "I think. There’s no one to mind. And someone might want some cupcakes." There was bound to be at least one other person on the island in search of pastries today, wasn’t there? "What do I need? They have everything here. I think. They must. Need chocolate. It has to be chocolate. There should always be chocolate. Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate..." Baking would happen, eventually, if he could get the flailing and the urge to completely freak out under control.

[Expecting one but totally open for others as well. I am sadly AFK while covered with teacup humans, but I will be available briefly between 1-2 EST and after 5.]

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Francine had intended to re-stock her supply of baked goods (and get one of those giant business-meeting dispensers of coffee this time too, geez) and head off to the library. Hanging around town might not be the brightest thing she could do after hearing this morning's radio broadcast, but. Doughnuts. Cupcakes. Necessary. Plus she didn't intend to hang around very long.

Until she got there.

"Hello?" Echo echo echo. "Helloooooo?"

Stark, who had been crouched behind the counter looking for something, jumped up at the voice.

"They're all," he waved an arm to indicate the empty shop. "Gone. Or just not here. I don't know which. But they aren't here. Just me."

Francine frowned. "Why would they leave the place unlocked, if they're closed?" And more importantly, "Why would they be closed? You can't fight an invasion without cupcakes!"

Never mind that she had no idea what they were being invaded by besides ... absence. It was the principle of the thing!

Oh my. A kindred spirit!

"I don't know," Stark replied, pleased to have found someone who understood the importance of cupcakes. "I thought, maybe, I'd make cupcakes. To help. For something to do." And he'd get right on that, if he could keep the flailing under control.

"I was just gonna buy some, since I'm staying at the hotel and don't have an--"

Oooooh.

"Oh look. Ovens."

Lots and lots of ovens. Industrial sized ovens.

"Big ovens," Stark pointed out helpfully. "I think they work the same. Probably." He had no idea.
"I thought I would try, at least. So there would be something. Something chocolate." That was important. Chocolate was kind of imperative.

"I can help, if you want." Francine leaned on the counter and took a breath. "Actually, I want. Doing something I'm good at would be so much better than getting more nothing from the books in the library."

"Please." He was just one alien, he couldn't bake an island's worth of cupcakes all on his own!

"I haven't been to the library. Didn't think I would help much, there. This I could do. I hope."

Chocolatey Banik-and-Texaseean delights for both sustenance and, should anyone figure it out, defense.

Now that he could add a line about being faculty and specializing in baked goods to his resume, and since he was in town, Anders figured it really was an obligation for him to head over to J,GoB and look in on the cupcakes. Also the staff, since gods knew whoever was still around from his time as a student would remember him by now. (They would, right?)

Well. That presupposed them being around, which they weren't, but . . .

"Stark? Hey, man! Thank frak you're still here."

Look out, Stark, incoming tacklehug.

"Anders!" And there's the tacklehug, which very nearly knocked Stark off his feet. Luckily there was an Anders to hang onto for balance.

"I'm here. Still." In spite of crazy ideas like manning a bakery while the world was ending. "So are you." Obviously, but it was still a relief. Anders was one of his favorite people and most of his other favorite people had been disappeared. "Good. I'm glad. Very glad."

"Right back at you," Anders told him, happy to be a support beam or something like it. "What, do you work here now?"

In some silly way, it made him feel better to know someone was here. The bakery being empty was just sad.

"No." Stark shook his head. "I came in for cupcakes. But there weren't any. Or any people."

Possibly he might continue hanging onto Anders's arm. For balance. Or reassurance. Or both.

"I thought I should do something. So I cleaned. And there were still no people. So I baked. Or started to. I thought it might help. And I needed to do something."

Anders had had a chance to listen to the radio this morning, and he narrowed his eyes in thought. "Hey, man, you remember that time we wondered if throwing cupcakes at the wild teal deer would help? I think this time it just might. Someone took some of these guys out with a pie yesterday." He burst out laughing, and okay, that was a little bit because he was punchy from brain fatigue, but sorry, Stark, he was about to pound you on the shoulder. (With an open hand, at least.)

"Dude! Keep baking! You might just save everyone."

Oof.

"I remember. It worked. A little." It had at least slowed down a rogue deer or two enough for Stark to get past them. "But I didn't understand," he said. "About the pie. What did it do?"

And cupcake weapons seemed like a terrible abuse of chocolate.

"Didn't get the details." Anders shrugged, apologetic. "Seemed to work, though. Or the squirrels were wrong again. Wouldn't be the first time. Radio kid said something about weaponizing the pastry."

If ever there was a time for Karla's cooking to come in handy . . .

"Save the good ingredients for people to eat. We can hit 'em with the cupcake abominations."

"Then we have to make those," Stark pointed out. At least it was for a good cause?

"But...we did it before. We could do it again. I've done worse." And the last time the universe almost ended for him he'd mostly just stared in horror because there was nothing he could do.

They all had to make sacrifices in dire circumstances.

"It'll keep us busy, at least," Anders pointed out.

But the chocolate, Anders! Think of the chocolate!

"Busy is good," Stark said, nodding. "Busy helps. With not thinking." About how the universe was ending and everyone he'd ever known had vanished, things like that. "Much better than being not busy."

"Plenty to keep you busy, too, with everyone else gone." Anders didn't wibble exactly, but he did look sad about the emptiness of the place.

Careful, Anders or you'll get Stark wibbling.

"I know," Stark said, looking around sadly. He missed them already. He shook his head then, trying to clear his thoughts. If he started thinking about missing people he'd never stop and that way lay madness. Or at least a good approximation of it. "People cupcakes first, or weapon cupcakes?"

Anders considered that for a moment as he turned the glass dome cover of a pastry display.

"Weapon cupcakes first," he decided, darting behind the counter to grab a can of whipped cream from the refrigerator and just pile a pie plate high with it. Then another. "Give you something to hold 'em off while you get the other cupcakes done, first."

"Whipped cream?" Stark asked curiously. He wasn't exactly familiar with slapstick.

"We could try some of the," shudder, "meat ones. From the summer."

Fandomites, you better appreciate what this Banik was willing to do for you.

THINK OF THE SACRIFICE, FANDOM.

"It's too short notice to get the --" it was Anders's turn to cringe -- "stuff to make sushi ones . . ."

Stark gave a soft relieved sigh. No fish in the cupcakes was always a plus, even in the face of...whatever it was outside.

"Good."

Anders smiled and reached out to pat him on the shoulder, gently this time.

"I got a few hours free. Lemme give you a hand with this."

"Help would be appreciated," Stark said. Also, Ander's company was always appreciated. He looked around then for Francine ~~who is there somewhere, probably~~. "There's someone else here too. Somewhere. She understood the importance of cupcakes."

Anders hadn't quite gotten to the point of being bitter and sarcastic about his humor in these circumstances, so his chuckle was, if tired, genuine. He ducked back into the kitchen to grab a couple of mixing bowls and sets of measuring cups, then hauled all the eggs and milk out of the fridge.

"There's hope for this island yet then."

"Always hope."

Stark wasn't entirely sure he believed that right now, but it couldn't hurt to say it. Probably. And if he repeated it enough maybe he would believe it.

"Or I hope there is hope."

"We're still here," Anders said firmly, praying with a rarely-felt desperation that he wasn't lying to his friend about this. "Long as we are, there is."

"The last time I thought the world was ending," Stark said. "The universe, really, I knew there was someone who could stop it. And he did." And his Crichton had only destroyed a tiny chunk of the universe with the wormhole weapon, really. "It was different there. Then. But yes. We're here. Someone will find out something."

Or they'd all disappear and it wouldn't matter.

Hey, a tiny chunk was better than a gigantic one.

"Someone has to. Can't break our streak now," Anders replied, hauling a very large sack of flour down from a shelf.

. . . part of him still clung to athletic superstitions.

"Until then? Cupcakes, man. It's all about the cupcakes."

"It is always all about the cupcakes," Stark said, managing a small smile.

"Even the horrible ones," he added as he rummaged through the fridge. Why the bakery had turkey in the refrigerator would probably remain a mystery, but it would come in handy for the weaponized cupcakes.

"Never thought learning the recipes for those things would be useful, did you?" Anders wasn't asking about the horseradish, either. Why was that there? Ew.

Oh well. It was convenient.

"Maybe we can teach that class again sometime, with a twist."

"There is the summer," Stark said. "We could. If there is a summer. Or a winter." He didn't like winter. Didn't like the cold. But he would be glad to see the snow and ice, this time. If it managed to appear.

"Cupcakes for every situation?"

"Looking like, huh?" Well. Anders had to stop coughing before he could answer; the bag of flour had kicked up a nice big cloud in his face. "Someday we'll gather enough evidence to write a book proving it, too."

"It goes in the bowls," Stark said mildly. "Unless you think we should bake you?"

"Would anyone buy that book?" Stark, people will buy anything about cupcakes. Honestly, you should know.

"People watch shows about cupcake baking," Anders pointed out. "Sure they'll buy a book about it."

He paused to dust flour out of his hair.

"I don't think you can throw me at those guys as easily as a cupcake."

"I don't think I could throw you at all," Stark pointed out. "Not that I would try." Because it would probably hurt.

"Cupcakes are better projectiles." Though there were times he missed the easy availability of pulse weaponry on Moya. Not that those would do any good here, but he didn't know that yet.
"And tastier."

He looked down at the counter which had horseradish, turkey, and some unidentifiable brown sauce on it. "Well. These might not be."

"I think Cupcake Wars proves that some people think they are," Anders said sadly. Really, it was horrible, but what could you do? "And, well, they'll have a really strong taste?"

Wait, was that HP sauce? In a cupcake? This was going to hurt his soul.

"Those people are crazy," Stark said. He would know. "Completely fahrbot." Also they were eaten by the Nothing, so their opinions were invalid.

"Very strong. We don't have to taste them, do we?" The line had to be drawn somewhere, Anders.

Anders looked at the mix of horseradish, paprika, and brown sugar that he was trying to turn into some kind of horrifying frosting that made him cry a little inside.

"Definitely not." He took Stark's word for it when it came to judging craziness. "Hell, this is clearing my sinuses so well I don't think we need to."

That got another small smile out of Stark.

"Good." There had been enough terrifying things to taste over the summer.

"And after this batch, something edible. With chocolate. Or peanut butter. Or both. And none of...that." He waved a hand at the frosting mixture, which had started his eye watering when he got too close.

Because the universe can't end on Thursday when it's already scheduled for Sunday, duh.

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JGOB, Thursday Morning

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OOC