Chapter Text
Explosions disrupting the early morning were hardly an unusual phenomenon in the town of Beetleburg - albeit an unnerving one - when there were so many sparks in residence at the great university at the heart of the town. Neither was the sight of black smoke billowing out of hastily opened windows, and the sounds of cursing coming from within the apartment that the smoke was pouring out of. All the same, the town people on the street below scattered away like frightened mice, in case more than just smoke came pouring out of the building.
Inside the apartment, three sparks were gathered in what was supposed to have at one time been a kitchen, but what now definitely looked like the lab of a complete madman. Which, in all fairness, they technically were. Barry and Klaus were both huddled in the corner nearest the large window, the chairs from the kitchen table barricaded in front of them, and a number of mechanical devices in front of them, most of which were designed to put out fires or contain chemical spills. Others were meant to shield them from anything that might come flying in their direction. Both were trying very, very hard not to laugh, and both were failing miserably.
The third man in the room, and the source of the explosion and the smoke, one Bill Heterodyne, sat in the middle of a sea of chaos. Table and counters were a mash up of various gears and bits of wires and tools mixed in with beakers and flasks and vials, and bags of flour and butter and milk, and other food ingredients and cooking utensils. Propped up near Bill’s foot was a cook book that, at that moment, seemed to have been forgotten. Mainly because at that moment, Bill was inspect the smoke-belching oven and cursing fluently in a large and widely varying number of languages.
Using a pair of heavy duty tongs, Bill began fishing the remains of the bread loaf pan out of the oven and dropped them off to the side where he wouldn’t (hopefully) step on them. He’d try to figure out what had happened to the bread that had been in the pan later; at that moment there was absolutely no sign of it at all.
“STOP LAUGHING!” Bill roared at his brother and best friend, turning to throw the tongs at them.
They would have hit Klaus, had he not had the sense to duck. As it was, they clattered against the wall harmlessly, but both Barry and Klaus kept themselves huddle down in case Bill started throwing something else.
“Calm down, Bill,” Barry said from behind the barricade, his voice quivering with laughter that he was trying hard to control. “You really are making too big a fuss about this.”
“Hmph.” The elder Heterodyne turned back to the oven and began poking and prodding at it. “Must be something with the heating element…” He muttered, and began to hum the odd atonal hum that helped him think clearly. Within moments he was once again prying the oven apart and trying to rebuild it to suit what he thought would do the trick this time around.
“You do realize that this is entirely your fault, right Klaus?” Barry said, reading the fire extinguisher sitting next to him.
“Me?” Klaus asked, trying to look innocent and failing completely. “All I did was give him a simple little book. A little self-improvement never hurt anyone.”
Said book being ‘101 Ways How Not to Burn Water’. It was meant to be a joke. Bill had taken it as a challenge. By the time Bill finally gave up on the project he’d torn the oven apart no less than 17 times, had blown out all the windows and set the kitchen on fire five times. And they still had to go out to buy dinner that night.