Powerpuff girls (male reader insert)

Reeking Havoc

(Opening shot: the city skyline during the day.)

Narrator: The city of Townsville...is enjoying a beautiful sunny day! (The girls fly across.) And so are the Powerpuff Girls.

(Cut to the exterior of their house; they land at the front door, which is ajar.)

Blossom: I think April is my favorite month out of the whole year.

(Close-up of the doorknob; wisps of vapor start to issue from within the house.)

Buttercup: (from o.c.) Mine too.

Bubbles: (from o.c.) Yeah, mine too. (Pull back to frame all three.) The flowers are blooming...

Buttercup: The sun is shining... (The vapor has now reached Blossom.)

Blossom: The smell of spring is in the air...

(Suddenly her eyes go very wide with surprise as she cuts herself off—whatever is drifting past her smells like anything but spring. Her sisters get a whiff and react similarly. Close-up of Buttercup, covering her nose.)

Buttercup: What is that smell? (Blossom does likewise.)

Blossom: Ugh! It's terrible! (Bubbles has her hands to her mouth.) It smells like hot meat.

Buttercup: And onions.

Bubbles: Peppers! Garlic powder! Oregano! A dash of Worcestershire sauce, and definitely a pinch of cumin!

Blossom: This can only mean one thing.

(They barge in; cut to inside the house. As they poke their heads cautiously around a corner, the rattling of equipment and a glutinous bubbling are heard from o.c. Cut to inside the kitchen; the Professor stands at the stove, with his back to the camera. This is the source of the fumes and the commotion. He has donned an apron and an oven mitt.)

Blossom: (from o.c.) Professor? (He turns around, holding up a mixing spoon.)

Professor: Hey, girls! Guess what? You're just in time to taste my special concoction for the—

(Cut to the girls, now in the kitchen doorway—this was where they peeked in from.)

Girls: (wearily) We know. The Second Annual Townsville Chili Cook-Off. (They float in.)

Professor: Oh, of course, you knew. You could probably smell the goodness a mile away. (holding out filled spoon) Here. Tell me what you think.

(The camera shifts to point toward the girls along with the spoon's handle. They glance at the heaping contents with considerable unease.)

Professor: (from o.c., wheedling) Come on, taste it.

(They gulp nervously; shift to frame all four. As he beams proudly over the finished product, the girls each take a small amount in their hands and reluctantly slip it into their mouths. As soon as the chili hits their tongues, all six eyes bug out and all three gag reflexes kick in.)

Professor: A winner, huh? (All responses are very strained.)

Buttercup: Mmm-hmm.

Blossom: Uh...words can't describe.

Bubbles: I never tasted anything like it.

(Her teeth crumble away as she says this—evidently the chili is a bit too toxic for even the girls to tolerate. However, the cook is entirely oblivious to their discomfort.)

Professor: It just needs a few more finishing touches. Thanks, girls!

(They zip away, and he helps himself to a taste. It seems to have no ill effects, and after a moment of letting it sit in his mouth, he gets an idea.)