Christmas: Syracuse, NY (8/12)

37 1 0
                                    

Co-written by EvelynaKitty

* * *

Syracuse, New York, USA


The snow glows around the festive house in a suburban neighborhood. The windows emit warm rays of light as the Christmas lights lining the house twinkle in the fridge night. It is a house that is ready for a party.

Inside, in the spacious kitchen, Brett Howden, Taylor Raddysh, and Callan "Cal" Foote are standing behind the long countertop. Brett is wearing a crisp white dress shirt; Taylor has on a purple holiday sweater and a Santa hat; Cal is sporting a blue jacket.

Each has their own ball of cookie dough and baking sheet in front of them. Intently, they mold, cut, and roll their dusty dough.

"Hah!" Brett puts down his cutting knife and looks at the dough on his cutting board. "Look at this beaut." He peels it off with the tips of his fingers and holds it in the air for the other two to see.

Hanging in the air is a roughly cut Christmas tree-shaped dough with a slanted angle.

"It's a Christmas tree," Brett remarks behind it.

Cal has an annoyed look at it. "That's not a tree, you idiot." He rolls his eyes.

With a huff, Brett plops the dough on the baking sheet.

In between them, Taylor contently rolls his dough in his hands. "Geez, sure was nice of Conch to let us have his house for a night to throw a party. That means, NO abusing the niceness by making ANY messes, Brett." He throws a glare at Brett.

Brett gawks at him. "I'm not making a mess! I'm making masterpieces!" He holds his hands out at the baking sheet next to his leftover dough.

His baking sheet holds similarly jagged holiday-shaped dough. Brett himself has large splotches of dough and powder all over himself.

Cal snorts before reaching his leg behind Taylor to shove it against Brett's calf. "You're such a liar."

Brett jolts at the sharp pain. "Ow!"

Meanwhile, Taylor gazes up dreamingly. "Man, if I had a place like this, I wouldn't DARE make a mess of it. Everything would be so neat and organized."

Cal brings his dough-sprinkled fist up to his mouth and coughs out, "And gay."

Brett leans over to scowl at him. "You're just jealous you can't make cookies as good as me! I mean, look at yours!" He holds a hand out to Cal's balls of dough on his baking sheet. "Is that an ornament or a snowball?"

Cal snaps his sharp eyes at him. "It's your mom."

Fury instantly engulfs Brett's face. He rips his leftover dough into his fist, balls it up, and throws his arm up in the air.

Taylor catches Brett's intended actions and barks, "HEY! No!" He snatches the ball from his hand and shoves it into his own mouth. He swallows it with a massive gulp.

Brett drops his jaw at him with a crinkled nose. "Ewww, that's so gross! Now I gotta get a new batch of dough!" He takes Taylor's leftover dough and begins to knead it on his own cutting board.

"It's just cookie dough, you pansy," Cal snarks at him as he rolls his dough with a rolling pin. "Maybe Shannon has a nice little dress somewhere for ya to put on, huh, Brettulet?"

Brett dusts off the flour from his dress shirt with burning eyes aimed at him. "Say that name one more time."

Cal halts his rolling and points at him. "Hey, Brettulet, you got some flour all over your pretty white shirt, as this will be a nice party, you might wanna fix yourself up a little."

Have Some CakeWhere stories live. Discover now