I don't like to write fiction. With my life, I don't need to make anything up.

So here I'm relating a very true experience, only my sister wished that she would be replaced by the Monkees. Strange one, she is. For future reference, the Monkees are not REALLY my sister. I hope this clears up any confusion.

AnJa and the Disastrous Cookies of Doom. A Boring Fan Pseudo-fic

It was Sunday, once again. Why do these Danish stories always have to happen on Sunday?! What, there aren't any other days of the week?!?!?!

Okay, so.

I woke up and was feeling quite industrious. I'd just been in charge for what, a full weekend, and I thought to myself, "I'll just make some chocolate chip cookies. Heck, I deserve it. Been a hard weekend for me and the guys."

So, I got all my ingredients together, and mixed it and everything, when Peter got up and walked out in his adorable nightshirt with the bunnies and all... and I said, "Peter, you don't mind chocolate chip cookies for breakfast, do you?"

And he grinned at me with that Peter grin and said, "I never do."

So I went back to mixing the ingredients. I started to add the flour mixture when Micky ran into the kitchen. "Why'd you make me knock on the door if you SAW the moth?!" He was screaming at Davy.

"Well," Davy began, "I thought the moth was dead."

"WHY'D YOU TRY AND MAKE ME KNOCK ON A DEAD MOTH!?!?!" Micky screeched, sounding not unlike a moth himself.

Davy shrugged and rapidly changed the subject. "Cookies!!" He was delighted.

Micky seemed to momentarily forget the moth deal himself. "Oh, chocolate chips?!"

I nodded my head and tried not to make a mess mixing the flour in with the wet stuff.

A few moments later, when I had stirred in the chocolate chips, I started to wonder where Mike was. "Guys, is Mike up yet?" I inquired.

I got three shrugs.

"Oh, thanks," I said, genuinely grateful for ALL the help.

I spooned the cookie dough onto the cookie sheet. "Hey, someone go find Mike," I suggested.

Davy walked off to find Mike.

I put the cookies in the oven for the required 8 minutes.

I don't know what I did for those 8 minutes.


I took the cookies out and they were horribly underdone. "ohh... I guess they'll just finish baking on the sheet." I told myself... and Micky and Peter.

I realised Davy had left at least 8 minutes before to find Mike and he wasn't back yet.

"Guys, one of you go find Davy and Mike, please."

Micky went this time.

I put the next dozen cookies in and went to go play a video game. Peter went and got on the computer.

I was getting way upset, and I was losing Yoshis. I was sad. Then I jumped up and said, "OH SHOOT." And ran into the kitchen. Peter walked into the kitchen to see what was wrong.

"THE COOKIES!!!" I was screaming, as I pulled these charred lumps of... who knows what... out of the oven. "NO NO NO NO!!!!" I was saddened. Deeply.

I know I heard fiendish voices laughing at me.


"Ha ha ha!!" They cackled. "You'll NEVER beat us!"

"Oh, YEAH?!"

Peter looked at me. "Why are you talking to cookies?" He asked.

"Oh, I uh... They're evil."

"Oh." He started to walk away.

"Hey, Peter?"

He turned back towards me and my struggle to get the ashes off the cookie sheet.

"Go find Micky and Mike and Davy, would you? Thanks, you're a doll. Tell them to help clean up the house... you-know-who are coming back today."

After he was gone, and when I was POSITIVE no one was looking, I beat the remaing dough a few times with a baseball bat. "That'll teach you little scoundrels!!!" I shouted.

"Hee hee hee!" The raw cookies and ashes laughed from the cooling rack.

I grabbed my magic wand. "ABERCADAVER!" I shouted, chuckling to myself.

The cookies laughed again.

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrr..." I stomped my foot.

Peter walked back in. "I couldn't find them," he told me.

"That's okay. Hey, Peter, why don't *you* take care of the next batch of cookies?"

"Oh, I don't think I could." He shook his head.

"Yes you could. How hard can it be?"

He looked at the evil cookies on the rack. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right."

I dashed out of the kitchen. I looked around for a place to hide. I finally dived into the cushions of the couch.

While I was in there, I found $21.93 in nickels, dimes, and pennies. I also found Micky, Davy, and Mike. "Guys, what are YOU doing down here?" I asked.

"Hiding." They answered.

"Oh, right."

Pretty soon, we heard Peter yelling, "Who wants cookies?"

Reluctantly, I pushed my head out of the sofa cushions.

"MRROOOOOW!!" Kitty yelled at me for displacing her.

"Sheesh." I walked hesitantly into the kitchen, holding my breath, and saw Peter standing there with...a dozen perfect cookies.

"NO FAIR!" I tasted one. It was good. "THAT is REALLY not fair." I grumbled.

Everyone else ate cookies... I felt sorry for myself.

With that, I walked away, thoroughly sick of the whole story and wishing Silla hadn't forced me to write about the stupid cookies and use the Monkees instead of my REAL stupid sister and to submit it to SillaTork's Cafe even though it's STUPID and will give everyone indigestion.