Summary: Just a silly little idea I thought of. And in this, I'm pretending Ragetti can read. And NO they are NOT lovers in this fic, they're friends, and they share a room . So get over it.

Disclaimer: I OWN dat cake! Well, not really.

Ragetti Bakes a Cake

"Wot are you doin'?" Pintel asked, spotting Ragetti on the couch holding a cookbook.

"I'm goin' ta make a cake, that's wot I'm doin'." Ragetti answered, holding up the cookbook. "See?"

He promptly dropped the book on his toe.

Pintel rolled his eyes. "Why don't you jus' use one of the cake mixes we 'ave in the cupboard?"

"'Cause I wanna be a real chef… unlike you." Ragetti sniffed, getting up and heading towards the kitchen.

Pintel sighed, and took a seat on the couch. We, at least this would be entertaining.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Okay," Ragetti muttered to himself, warily eyeing the recipe he had chosen. "First, I need ta melt the choc'late. Sounds easy enough."

Carefully, Ragetti placed three squares of baking chocolate on a cutting board. He somehow managed to chop it and place it in a saucepan without incident.

Then he turned the burner on.

"Ow! It's hot! It's hot!" Ragetti yelped, hopping up and down and shaking his hand rapidly.

He stopped hopping and glared accusingly at the stove. "You burned me!"

Pintel snickered, and opened a bag of popcorn he had found stuffed beneath the couch cushions.

"Hmmph." Ragetti pouted, turning back to his chocolate. His (non-wooden) eye widened.

"It's on fire!" he gasped. He then began blowing and spitting on it, trying to put it out.

Obviously, it didn't work.

Eventually, Ragetti /gasp/ smartened up and dumped a glass of water over it, extinguishing the fire.

"It's a bit burned, but I think it'll be okay." Ragetti decided as he stared at the blackened chocolate puddle.

He dumped the melted, burned chocolate in a bowl, and began to add the other ingredients.

Soon, it was time to add the egg.

The first time he tried to add it, the monkey stole it. ("Me egg!")

The second he dropped.

Same with the third.

The fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh were all thrown at Pintel for some comments he made.

Finally, the egg made it into the cake batter, along with most of it's shell.

"A bit o' crunch never hurt anyone." Ragetti declared, proud of his achievement.

The rest of the ingredients were added without incident, until it was time to add the baking soda.

The recipe said, "Add one tsp of baking soda."

"I wonder wot 'tsssssp' means," mused Ragetti, examing a set of measuring spoons. Finally, he picked up the tablespoon. "The bigger the better. Isn' that righ', Pintel?"

Happily, Ragetti dumped in a tablespoon of baking powder. Then he added a half-cup more, just for good measure.

Humming, Ragetti poured his conglomeration into a cake pan, set it in the oven, and joined Pintel on the couch.

"Told you I coul' cook!" Ragetti crowed, nudging Pintel with his elbow.

"We'll see," chuckled Pintel.

Ragetti stuck his tongue out at him and stole a fistful of stale popcorn.

/Half an hour later/

"Ragetti, is yer cake suppose' to be doin' that?" Pintel asked warily.

"Doin' wot?" Ragetti looked up from the cartoon he was watching. "I'm watchin' Spongebob 'ere- or tryin' to, at least."

"I think you should go check it." Pintel argued, kicking Ragetti in the shin.

"But they're goin' Jellyfishin'! Oh, alrigh'," Ragetti sighed.

He got up, walked into the kitchen, and opened the oven.

They were both promptly showered by burned, crunchy chocolate "cake".

Shuffling back into the living room, Ragetti sheepishly asked Pintel, "Where are those cake mixes ya told me abou' earlier?"