Killmonger's One-Shot Collection

Battle of the Mac

After years of back and forth shots and jokes, tension finally boiled over.

You told Erik that your mama's mac and cheese could run circles around his funky granny's and his trifling ass made his granny's mac from scratch and brought it to Thanksgiving in attempt to overshadow your mama.

The fam was gathered in the kitchen as taste testers and Erik made sure there wouldn't be cheating on your end. He personally enlisted your outspoken daddy, your knucklehead cousin, and your asshole grandpa knowing they ain't give a flying fuck about no one's feelings, not your mama's and not yours.

"That's okay," you nod squeezing Pearly's shoulders as you stand defensively in her corner. She takes her giant pan of mac from the oven and sits it in its prepared spot on the kitchen island next to Erik's granny's recipe.

"We gone see whose mac and cheese taste better, Ms. Pearly's or his granny's y'all.. and DON'T let him INTIMIDATE y'all!"

"I'm not," Erik gasped, affronted as you pressed your hand into his chest to drive your point across.

"DON'T LET HIM SWAY Y'ALLS OPINION....JAMES!" You point to Erik's lil broke bestie, your baby brother. "You know he like to cheat!"

"His ass definitely like to cheat," Ms. Pearly muttered pointedly, her gold tooth glinting. Erik balked at the slander.

"I resent that, I ain't ever cheated."

"LIES. LIKE I SAID," you point your wooden spoon at each male in the circle jerk of fools sharing the family surname. "You know what, screw that. I can't trust y'all. Blindfolds! James, go in mama room and grab her scarves."

"Okay," he zoomed up the stairs. Within the next few minutes he was back and the first three people in your family were blindfolded, each handed a plate with two samples of baked mac, one made by Erik and one made by Ms. Pearly who was equally as confident, hand on hip silently daring the testers to lie and point to some unfamiliar mac. They knew what hers tasted like and they knew hers was better than whatever baked mess it was that Erik brought by her kitchen.

"Y'all think this is a game..," you threaten when they take too long to choose, eating up both scoops and sucking forks with no decision.

"I don't know why we blindfolded we know what Pearly's mac and cheese tastes like," Andre blurts getting laughs of agreement that you shut down. His fork taps the empty plate. "I think I need a lil bit more to really decide.."

"Shut up Andre. Pick one."

"Tie. I can't choose."

"You gone choose today!"

"If you ain't Ms. Pearly daughter," Marcus, your older cousin sighs rekindling the laughter.

"Yuuup," you nod pointing the wooden spoon to your blindfolded dad like a sword. If he don't wanna walk the plank and drown in the sea of Pearly's wrath he better get it right. "What you choosing, Daddy?"

"I can't answer, that's cheating," Erik shrugs dumbly as more snickers pepper the air. You smack him in the head with the spoon. "Ow, what I do?"

"Anyways. Daddy, pick one," you wait staring him down through the scarf with Pearly doing the exact same thing.

"Think real careful," she warns, "About how hard that couch is on your lower back."

"I don't give a monkey's red ass I ain't sleeping out on no damn couch cause you mad about the fuggin mac and cheese," he fusses. "I done told you that cushion don't sit right on my arthritis, fuck my back all up and you funky bout the mac and cheese well Fuck That I don't give damn-"