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“Come on, Egghead, are you trying to tell me you don’t like cake?”
“For your information, Crockpot, I am simply not in the mood for cake.”
“Impossible. Everyone is in the mood for cake. All cake. All the time. All of it ever.”
“But you’re just gonna use that stupid powdered mix stuff your…uhh…mom? Teacher? Whatever, I’m not gonna put anything made by the batterwitch in my mouth!”
“Well fine! I don’t need to use that stuff anyway!”
“You…you don’t?”
“No, of course I can make a fresh cake. If you’re gonna be that big a baby about it…”
“Hey, I’m still a god you know. Do I need to show you the windy thing again?”
“Not in the ktichen again, you heard her yell when you sent all the good pans flying against the wall. And I’m still older than you.”
“By two years!”
“Yeah, and that’s two years that can beat you up with this cakepan.”
“Ooooh, I’m so scared of your cakepankind.”
“You should be!”
—And then they had a Tom and Jerry style chase around the kitchen. And then they boned. Except they didn’t.—