The End is Just the Beginning (a Bad End Friends story)

Chapter 5

It took them a few days, but the three teens managed to fix up the town to better than what it had looked like before, in Bipper's opinion at least. You couldn't even tell that hundreds of people had died there even if you looked super hard. They were heading in the right direction for town domination.

And then Bipper tried to make a celebratory dinner.

It didn't start off too bad. They had finally finished plastering and painting public areas and stores. They went back home to what Bipper had sarcastically renamed the "Attack Shack."

As soon as they all made it to the living room, Finn collapsed from exhaustion into the armchair he so adored. Even Wirt had to sit down on the floor next to the chair.

"Come one, guys! Get up! We need to celebrate. We're done playing Fixer-upper!" Bipper said, somehow still hyped up.

"Food," Finn groaned, his face buried into the arm of the recliner.

"I can do that!" Bipper said enthusiastically. He quickly rushed to the kitchen before they could question it.

What to make? Bipper thought to himself. What to make?

He raked through his memories but came up with nothing. "Huh, what would Pinetree make?" he asked himself. Again, he looked through memories, but this time not his own minds but his body's.

"Spaghetti!" Bipper exclaimed quite suddenly. "Easy, simple, fast!" He snapped and a bunch of random ingredients popped up on the counter along with gleaming silver pots. Bipper went to work.

Within ten minutes, the smoke alarm went off.

Wirt came in after that rather casually for someone checking on a beeping smoke alarm Bipper noticed. Wirt took in the mess Bipper somehow made in the few minutes he was actually cooking.

"How?" Wirt asked without emotion.

"I don't know," Bipper shot back as he frantically stirred a pot that was flowing over with frothy white bubbles. "Well," he shouted indignantly. "Don't just stand there, help me!"

Wirt came over and turned off a few burners on the stove. He took out a blackened loaf of bread out of the oven without any protection, although he didn't seem as if he burned himself. "What are you even trying to make?"

He snapped and the blaring alarms turned off. "Spaghetti," Bipper said, dead serious, or at least as serious as he could be while he stirred to pots at the same time.

Wirt laughed, actually laughed, at that. It was the first time he had done that, and it shocked Bipper despite himself.

"What?" Bipper asked defensively.

"Did you even look at a recipe?" Wirt asked, looking highly amused.

"No," Bipper admitted, and he started to laugh also. Not a maniacal chackle but a true laugh.

That's nice, Bill, a bitter voice said in his head. Are you learning to be human?

The voice was not his own.

Bipper paled and stopped laughing. He had not expected the foreign voice in his head.

"Are you all right, Bipper?" Wirt asked, no longer laughing as well. He had noticed the other's sudden sobriety.

Bipper looked at Wirt and regained his composure. "Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good. So, this obviously is not working very well. How about I poof a pizza?"

"Uh, okay," Wirt said carefully, confused by the attitude change.

Bipper looked around the kitchen. "I'll just clean this all tomorrow," he said, shrugging.

The two walked back into the living room and sat down next to a puzzled Finn. Bipper snapped, and three pizza boxes appeared out of seemingly thin air. They boys all grabbed one and ate, Wirt way more civilized than the others.