//------------------------------// // Chapter Three: Cooking Price-Wise // Story: Desserters // by The Iguana Man //------------------------------// Unfortunately, it seemed Twist's nerves would not be so easily placated. In the twenty minutes or so since they'd left the cook-off and found a quiet corner, she'd done little but sit there, trying to get herself to relax and forget the earlier scare. However, every time she thought she'd gotten a handle on it, some stray thought would remind her and send her into another short series of shudders. To his credit, Truffle had remained by her side throughout, holding her tight and stroking her side gently whenever she started shaking. As far as she could tell, he had barely even looked up at the many food stalls in the area, so great was his concern for her, and that seemed to be doing more for her anxiety that the rest was. Still, she couldn't help but groan at herself. “I'm thorry, Truffle, I...” "Ssh, ssh, it's okay, Twist,” Truffle assured her. “No one's blaming you.” "I am!” Twist blurted out, squeezing her eyes shut. “I don't know if I... but I thhouldn't be... we thhould be going around having fun, not jutht thitting here. I'm ruining our trip.” Truffle shook his head. “The only thing being ruined here is your self-esteem, and that's what we need to fix.” He sighed and nuzzled her. “I just wish there was somehting we could do to help you calm down, but I don't know what. I know that you like to relax by... wait, that's it!” He rocketed to his hooves before giving her an optimistic smile. “Will you be okay by yourself for a moment? I need to go check something.” Twist thought for a moment before nodding. As soon as she did, Truffle was off, running as fast as his legs could carry his considerable weight and much faster than most would assume he could go. Twist chuckled at the image before sighing, looking around in an attempt to distract herself from her own thoughts. Fortunately, she saw a pair of ponies nearby who were talking loudly enough for her to hear. "It does not make sense, Hasty,” the smaller one said, his funny little moustache twitching slightly. “Gustave may be a touch abrasif at times, but I cannot see a casual acquaintance wishing 'im dead, let alone going to these lengths. And yet, the idea was clearly to 'ave 'im blow 'imself up – too personal a method for a pragmatic motivacion” His accent was odd – close to Le Grand's, but still distinct. "Hmm, so a close friend, you think?” His taller friend – Hasty, apparently – said, his plummy South Trottingham accent much easier to get a handle on. The smaller pony shook his head. “For someone else, per'aps, but non. Anyone who knows Gustave that well would know him to be too fastidious to turn on an unfamiliar oven without looking.” "Well, perhaps they just didn't think about that,” Hasty shrugged. “Everypony makes mistakes, old boy.” "Possibly. But Humer Poisson? 'E will not rely on 'possibly' when a friend's life is in danger.” The funny little stallion paused, then sighed and tapped his head. “Ah, but the little grey cells, they are not cooperating. Come, let us talk with the pony in charge and 'ope they are stimulated.” The two walked off, leaving Twist to simply smile at the little pony's odd mannerisms. Fortunately, that helped keep her mind off things for the minute or so it took for Truffle to return. "Right, sorry about that – didn't want to get your hopes up if it turned out my idea wouldn't work,” he explained, offering a hoof to help her up, “but turns out it might. You see, I remembered how cooking always relaxes you, but I didn't think anyone around here would have enough of a kitchen for you to really get into your groove, however,” he grinned as her helped her to her hooves, “remember the private kitchens for the competitors? I asked if we could use one and, apparently, a few at a time are free and we can hire them. How does a bit of baking in a state-of-the-art kitchen sound?” Twist blinked herself back into full awareness at the question, having been distracted by the idea enough not the notice the huge smile blooming on her face. After a moment's thought, though, it fell off. “I mean, that thoundth amathing, but...” she sighed, her heart breaking slightly at having to object, “that can't be cheap. I mean, I'm guething you checked that we have the bitth for it, but... if we do hire one out, we won't have enough bitth to buy anything elthe, will we?” Truffle shrugged. “Probably not, but who cares? We've got plenty of stuff already and none of it's going to do us any good if you're too shaken to eat any, is it?” For a moment, a couple of objections scratched at Twist's throat about how he could still eat, but one look at his face made clear there was no chance he was going to accept that sort of protest. Instead, she just shook her head with a smiling sigh. “You know, thometimes I almotht withh you weren't thuch a good coltfriend. Okay, let'th go!” "Let's!” Truffle said, turning around a moment too slowly to hide the rare blush on his cheeks. After a moment's giggling, Twist followed, unable to keep an excited spring out of her step. It didn't take long for the two to reach a large building with a single story and large, open windows, smoke and steam wafting out of them and into the spring air. It didn't take a master chef to recognize the hallmarks of a kitchen, though the two were a little surprised at the lack of a guard outside. However, the reason for this quickly became clear as they peeked inside, seeing the guard that was presumably stationed here talking to someone in one of the partitioned areas. Looking at each other in puzzlement for a moment, they quietly stepped inside, only to hear a strange voice coming from where the guard was looking. "...and even leaving aside my friendship with Gustave and my lack of both ability with and inclination towards explosives, there is also the not-insignificant fact that I am both an organizer and a judge of this whole competition.” Despite the obvious vehemence to his statement, the voice didn't sound especially forceful or angry about it, nor did it need to. It was a high-pitched, refined sort of voice, but it had an odd sort of cadence to it the Twist had a hard time putting her hoof on. It was the voice of a noble, certainly, but more intelligent and subtle than most she'd heard, and with an odd sense of devilish playfulness, even while clearly being sincere. “It hardly seems reasonable to assume I sabotaged my own event, now, does it?” The guard snorted. “What, you mean like in House on Harrowed Hill?” Despite the suspicion in his voice, the guard couldn't quite hide the tiny undercurrent of fear to his tone. Her curiosity thoroughly piqued, Twist walked quietly up to the door he was standing in as the guard continued. “Faking an attack or a death is a pretty common thing.” Looking inside, Twist saw a tall, distinguished-looking stallion with a thin moustache shaking his head. “Yes, that is extremely common in fiction, but in the real world, I would think it a far more remote... Oh, hello there, young lady.” He caught her eye and gave her a friendly smile. “I do hope our little debate hasn't been disturbing the attendees. Is there anything we can help you with?” Twist shrank slightly at having the attention of the two adults suddenly on her, but her anticipation was still strong enough to answer. “Oh, well, it'th jutht... I heard the kitchenth were open for guethts and I wath hoping we could hire one.” She gave a slightly weak smile and chuckle as she heard Truffle come up behind her. The guard winced. “Oh, er... well, you heard right but... well, I'm sorry to say they're all full right now. Apparently we underestimated how many we'd need – lotta cooks at an event like this, who'da thought?” Twist felt her shoulders slump along with her face at the news. Her lips pressed together tight as she looked away. “Oh... I thee. Well, thorry to bother you.” She began to turn away, already beginning to think of what she could do instead. "Now, hold on a moment, my dear,” the voice of the odd stallion interrupted her, drawing her attention back to him enough to notice the thoughtful look on his face. “No need to give up hope so easily. Perhaps we can come to some arrangement.” Before she could ask any questions about what he meant, Twist heard Truffle's voice from behind her. “Wha- ahem... what kind of arrangement?” Twist's eyes widened in surprise at Truffle's tone, the fur on the back of her neck standing slightly more on end. Looking over at him, she saw an expression she'd never seen on him before: trepidation. Not that he was afraid, exactly, but he had an intensely uneasy look as he stared up at the stallion, clearly recognizing him. She put a hoof on his shoulder, feeling as she did the tiny twitch of his muscles that was the closest he was likely to get to jumping in surprise. “Are you okay, Truffle?” she asked, disturbed at his behaviour. “Do you know him?” She heard a small chuckle from behind her. “Not personally, but I suspect he has seen some of my films.” Twist let out a tiny gasp as she looked between them. “You're... you're a movie thtar?” Truffle nodded, swallowing hard. “A horror star.” The stallion sighed, though his smile suggested he wasn't that bothered. “Not exclusively, but most know me as such.” He gave a small bow. “Vignette Price, at your service. And to answer your question, young stallion, an entirely non-sinister arrangement. If you don't mind me asking, was there a reason you seem to have had your heart set on using these facilities, Miss...?” Truffle let out an unconvinced hum, but Twist shrugged it off, not seeing any harm in answering. “Oh, I'm Twitht... er, that'th with an eth, I wath named before my parentth knew about the lithp,” she shrugged, eliciting a chuckle from Vignette and even a small hint of tense laughter from Truffle before she continued, feeling her face heat up a little as she said, “and thith ith Truffle, my... my coltfriend. And, um... well, we were in the audienthe when the whole, um... bomb thing happened and it... it kind of upthet me and I wathn't really able to thettle down on my own.” She gulped, the feeling of unease returning as soon as she thought about it. “Tho, thinthe I always find cooking to be relacthing, I thought maybe, if there were kitchenth available...” she trailed off, looking away a little in embarrassment now she knew it would be difficult. However, the elegant pony simply nodded in understanding, making her feel a little better. “A most laudable idea, Miss Twist. I confess, while I wasn't present at that little incident,” he gave a momentary pointed look to the guard still standing next to the young pair, “I had a somewhat similar thought, though I had hoped to take advantage of this equipment after the show anyway. And, while I could certainly relinquish my place for the moment... I don't know if that will be necessary. Tell me, young lady: what would you say if I were to offer to cook with you? With any cost taken care of by me, of course.” Twist let out a small gasp as she felt hope blossom in her chest once more. “Really?” Vignette grinned in amusement at her enthusiasm. “Yes. If you like, I could teach you one or two recipes... or, depending on your talent and experience, perhaps you could teach me one or two.” Twist blushed once more, almost beginning to feel like her blood was getting tired of going in and out of her cheeks but unable to stop it. “Well, I don't want to be a bother.” "My dear, putting a smile on the face of a child is never a bother. Come in, come in!” He waved her inside before glancing up at Truffle. “And you may of course come in as well, young stallion, though I quite understand if you wish to remain at a distance.” "No, no, it's fine,” Truffle said as he followed Twist in. “I get it – you're not a bad guy, just an actor.” Despite his words, Twist couldn't help but notice he was sticking a little closer by her than he would normally. “It's just... hard to unsee what I've seen, if that makes sense.” "Oh, complete sense,” Vignette assured him. “And I wouldn't worry – as inconvenient as such associations can be, they are, in the end, a compliment to those performances. Besides, given that...” He leaned a little to look past the guard in the doorway. Following his eyeline, Twist saw that another couple of guards had arrived at the building's entrance. Vignette sighed. “Given that it seems our vigilant friend is to continue keeping watch on me, I daresay that even if I were to try something, he could protect the two of you... although,” he looked over Truffle for a moment, an analytical look in his eyes, “I have a slight suspicion you might be a more capable protector than some might assume too.” There was a moment's pause before Truffle laughed, his awkward unease finally beginning to abate. “Well, I like to think so, but I'm also a capable eater – I hope you don't mind if I help too.” "Ah, my kind of colt – not at all.” Vignette smiled before turning back to Twist. “Now, tell me, do you know how to make Gateau Grand Marnier?” Twist thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, that thoundth... complicated.” "Not at all,” the tall stallion said, waving off her concerns. “It's merely a form of cake. First, we'll need some butter and suger, and if you, young stallion, could get some flour, baking powder and soda while I find the appropriate licquer...” Funnily enough, her nerves didn't last too long after that.