Chapter 5 - Fart cook
When Katie left Mini Mastercook, Mr. Close put on a special party for her. It was like a ‘Welcome Back’ party. All the kids came up to her and said nice things. “You should have won” or “You were great” they said. I was sick of hearing about Katie Cook. I was sick of seeing her on TV. I was sick of my mum saying “there’s little Katie” every night she was on TV. When I saw her at her welcome back party I said to her “your cakes taste worse than snails, YUK!” She didn’t like me after that.
I knew Katie was a great cook. I knew that she was the only one who could make the Fart Stew taste good. I had to get her help, but I didn’t know how. For the next few weeks I tried to talk to her at school. I kept going to places I knew she would be, so I could talk to her. I stood near her school bag at lunch time. When she went to get her lunch I said “Hey Katie”. She just gave me an angry look. Then I stood next to the sports oval where she always played. I’d wave at her when she came past. She just looked madder. I stood next to where she caught the school bus. I tried saying “how’s your day?”, she just stuck her tongue out. I walked behind her to art class, but she walked faster. I sat near her at lunch time, but she got up and walked away. I even gave lollies to her 4 year old sister Jemma. Katie walked up, took her hand and led her away. Every time I tried to talk to her she just got mad.
One day I was waiting next to her school bag. When she saw me she got very, very mad. “Right Danny FARTER” she said. “Why do you keep following me around like a bad smell?” She was pointer her finger at me. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?” she yelled.
So I told her. I told her all about the Superfarter. I told her about the puffball fartrooms. I told her about the fart stew. I told her how bad it tastes. I told her my plan to feed all the kids fart stew. I told her I needed her help, and I told her she was the only one that could make fart stew taste good.
She was still angry. “I don’t care about this Superfarter” she said “I don’t care about your silly dog. I don’t care about puffrooms. I don’t care about fart stew. I don’t care about boys or their silly farts.” I got sad when she said that. “She’s never going to help me now” I thought. But then she sort of smiled “What I DO care about is the art of cooking” she said. “I can make food dance in your mouth. I can make people close their eyes and smile when they eat. But, making the worst tasting thing ever into something great, that would take….” she looked up like she was trying to find the right word. “A MASTERCOOK!” she looked very happy with herself “I’ll do it!” she said. Then she gave me a hug and ran off. Girls are so weird.
I met Katie at her house a few days later. It was the day before the disco so we had to get cooking. I took all the fart foods for the stew with me. When I got to her house Katie was already cooking. She opened the front door wearing Mastercook clothes. She had food stains on her top. “Thanks” she said as she took the bag of food from me. Then she ran back into the kitchen. I walked in behind her. I was shocked to see the kitchen. It was HUGE! It was made of shiny black benches and silver. It looked amazing. Katie was standing on a stool chopping something up. Then she threw a handful of whatever it was into a pot.
I wanted to put all the foods in the giant pot, but Katie said no. She wanted everything just right. She would only put one food in the pot at a time. She said each food had to go in at the right time or it would not taste right.
“I’m making a flavor base for the stew” she said. I just looked at her. I didn’t know what a flavor base was. “A flavor base” she said again. “I mix up a bunch of herbs and spices to make a really good flavor. Then when I add the other food to the stew it all tastes like the flavor. That’s a flavor base. Hand me that large spoon” she said.
That was pretty much what happened all day. Katie talked about food. Katie talked about cooking. Katie talked about spices, herbs and flavors. She whizzed around the kitchen. She moved fast like she was on roller skates. Then she’d say “hand me that” or “get me a whatever” or “here stir this”. Sometimes she’d say “Here, try this” and shove a spoon in my mouth. I don’t like cooking or girls but it was really kind of fun.
When I first tasted the fart stew it tasted bad - really, really bad. It was better than the first fart stew I made with the boys, but still really, really bad. I thought Katie would get mad because I said it was yuk, but she didn’t. She would just say “more chilly” or “more salt” or “too much bean”. Then she would keep cooking.
After hours of cooking I was really tired. I sat at the table. Katie was still zipping all over the kitchen. “It’s ready!” she said. As she scooped out a spoonful of the stew, the phone rang. Katie put the lid back the pot, put the spoon down and walked out of the room to get the phone. “Hello. Katie speaking” I heard her say.
Just then Katie’s sister Jemma walked in. She was holding one of her dolls and a small toy bowl. “Dolly is hungry too” she said. She walked around the kitchen picking things up and putting them in the bowl. “Do you like this dolly?” she said to dolly. Then she would feed her doll some of the stuff from the bowl.
When Jemma picked up something from the bench she knocked the jar of chili flakes over. I didn’t notice but it spilled all over the spoon Katie had left on the bench. “Dolly wants to ride her bike now” she said. She skipped out of the room as Katie walked back in.
“Here you go” Katie said. She looked happy with herself. She picked up the spoon and walked over to me. She had her hand under it so it would not drip on the floor. After hours of cooking it was finally ready. “Here try this” she said. She put the spoon in my mouth. I chewed slowly for a second and….”AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRR” I screamed. My tongue burned. My lips burned. My gums burned. My eyes watered and my face went all red. I tried to speak but all I could say was “HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT! HOT!” I ran to the tap to poor some water.
Katie was shocked. She put her finger on the edge of the spoon then tasted it. “Chilly?” she said. Then she looked at the bench and saw the chili flakes. I was guzzling a drink of water. “NO” yelled Katie. She ran over to me and started to pull the cup out of my hand. I didn’t know what she was doing. We started fighting over the cup of water. As we did water started splashing everywhere. “NOT WATER!” she yelled. As she let go of the cup the water spilled on the floor. “You need milk!” she said. I ran to the fridge and got the milk. I didn’t worry about a cup. I just started drinking the milk straight from the bottle. As I drank, the milk poured down the sides of my mouth and all over my top. I just could not drink it fast enough. My feet slipped in the water on the floor. I started to slip over. I waved my arms to try and stay balanced, but I was still holding the milk bottle. Milk flew all over Katie and all over the kitchen. I tried to grab the bench, but I grabbed a bag of flour on the bench instead. Just then I slipped over and landed on my bum. As I fell I pulled the bag of flour and hit Katie in the face. The bag popped. Flour went everywhere. It covered Katie, me and the floor.
We were both shocked. We just looked at each other. We were both completely white. You couldn’t even tell who we were. Jemma came back into the room and said “Dolly wants to….” She didn’t finish what she was going to say. She looked up at us and started crying “GHOSTS!” she yelled. Then she ran out of the room. “MUUUUUUMM! There are ghosts in the kitchen!” I heard her yell as she ran away. Katie and I burst out laughing.
Katie’s mum came in holding Jemma. She looked at the mess. She looked at me laughing covered in flour and milk on the floor. “I think it’s time for you to go Danny” she said. She didn’t seem very happy.
I rode home still giggling about what happened. I was covered in flour with my tongue hanging out. As I rode the cool air made my tongue feel better. I felt like a dog with his head out the car window. People gave me funny looks and pointed at me as I rode past.