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Peter groaned in desperation as he swiped his key card to get into the Avenger’s Tower. The security guard waved at him as he pressed his phone tightly to his ear.
“Seriously guys?! Why does it have to be this prank?!”
MJ scoffed on the other end of the three-way call. “Cause you lost the bet, loser.”
“And losers don’t get to pick the prank,” Ned chimed in.
“They’re all going to think I’m an idiot!” Peter exclaimed, tapping the elevator’s up button.
“Well…” MJ replied slowly.
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Peter threatened. His stomach did the usual flip flop as the elevator soared up to the Avenger’s living quarters. “Besides, what am I even going to say? What’s my story?”
“You lie to everyone for a living!” Ned assured him.
“Badly,” MJ chuckled.
“You’ll think of something!”
Peter sighed. “And if I don’t do it?” he asked.
“Shame!” Ned and MJ exclaimed.
“You can’t not do the consequence of losing a bet!” Ned gasped. “It’s like, dishonor on your whole family, dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow!”
“Finefinefine,” Peter muttered, pinching his nose. “I’ll do it.”
“Video or it didn’t happen!” MJ yelled into the phone before Peter disconnected the call. The elevator dinged, signaling his arrival.
Steve Rogers was reading a book in the common room as Peter walked by. The teen stopped and steeled himself before making his way over to the super soldier. He quickly formulated a story in his mind.
“Uh, Capt-Captain Rogers?” he asked nervously. He would never be able to call him “Steve” no matter how much everyone told him to.
Steve smiled warmly at Peter before marking his page and closing his book. “Hey, Peter! How’s it going?”
Peter gulped. “Uh, good! I actually need some help with something…” He stealthily opened his camera and began recording.
“Oh yeah?” Steve asked, quirking an eyebrow. “What’s up?”
Here goes nothing.
“So, uh, my aunt asked me to help her make a turkey for her Thanksgiving luncheon at work tomorrow. Cause she’s super busy and stuff. But, like, our oven is kind of on the fritz. And Google is being super contradicting about this, so I thought maybe you’d know...how long does it take to cook a turkey in the microwave?”
Steve blinked once, twice, then three times. He opened his mouth and closed it before putting his book aside and rubbing his hands against his knees. He cleared his throat. “You...you can cook turkeys in microwaves?” Steve asked slowly.
Peter nodded his head enthusiastically. “Totally!” he lied. “Technology is super advanced these days.”
Steve nodded. “I mean, I wasn’t alive when microwaves were invented, but that makes sense.”
Holy shit.
This was actually working.
“Do microwaves get as hot as ovens?” Steve asked.
“Yup!” No idea!
Steve smiled. “Well, then, I’d make sure it’s thawed out and put it in for the same time. Maybe a little longer just in case.”
Peter grinned before giving Steve a salute. “Thanks!” He ran out of the room before Steve could change his mind or question the validity of the puzzle. Peter quickly sent the video to Ned and MJ as he set off to find his next victim.
This could actually be a lot of fun.
With FRIDAY’s help, Peter was able to find the rest of the Avengers with ease. He caught up with Sam while he was doing laundry. After giving Sam the same spiel that he had given Steve, Sam just stared at him.
“Kid, you feeling okay?” he asked, placing a gentle hand on Peter’s forehead.
“Uh, yeah? Why?”
Sam shook his head. “A fever-induced hallucination is the only reason you would think you could put a freaking turkey in a microwave.” Sam slammed the door down on the washing machine and scoffed as he carried his laundry basket on his hip. “Put a turkey in a microwave,” he mumbled. “What white nonsense is this?”
Peter watched Sam walk out, trying to hold back a laugh. “So, uh, you don’t know then?” Peter called after him. Sam responded by shutting the door, effectively ignoring Peter. As soon as Peter’s enhanced hearing could tell that Sam was far enough away, he burst out into hysterical laughter. What started out as a prank was turning into quite the form of entertainment.
Nat was sparring with Clint when Peter found both of them in the gym. He waved to them and waited until they finished before jogging over during their water break.
“Hey! Think you can help me with something?” Peter asked.
Clint chugged half his bottle before letting out a burp. “Sure, kid, what’s up?” Nat scowled at Clint’s lack of manners and promptly dumped some of her water over his head. “Hey!” Clint yelped. “Rude!”
Peter bit his lip to keep from laughing. “How long does it take to cook a turkey in a microwave?” He kept it short and simple since Steve and Sam hadn’t even cared about the backstory.
“Six hours oughta do it,” Clint replied confidently. He ran his fingers through his messy, blonde hair. “Yup, six hours,” he said again. He patted Peter on the shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile before standing up and heading out of the gym to change. “Make sure you put it on high!” he called over his shoulder.
Peter stared after him, completely shocked. “Uh…” he drawled out, turning to Nat. “What do you think?”
Nat crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Peter with such fierce intensity that the smile was wiped off his face.
“Ты думаешь, я вчера родилась?” she asked, taking a step towards Peter. Do you think I was born yesterday?
Peter gulped and slowly backed away, but she matched him step for step. “Um, uh-”
“Ты правда думал, что я поведусь на твой розыгрыш?” Her voice took on a menacing quality, and Peter held up his hands in defense. Did you really think I would fall for your prank?
“I have no idea what you’re saying! I take Spanish! No habla-” His back made contact with the gym wall, and Nat towered over him. She moved so her face was mere millimeters from his, and she broke into a grin that would rival the Cheshire cat’s.
“That prank is so yesterday, little spider,” she chuckled. “But I’ll pay you good money to get me a video of the Avenger with the best reaction.” She backed away and offered Peter her hand to shake.
Now that was a deal he could make.
Turns out, he didn’t have to wait long. When he got into the kitchen, he found both Bucky and Bruce eating an afternoon snack. Bucky was scrolling through his smart phone while Bruce was flipping through an academic paper Peter recognized from a journal published a few weeks ago.
Peter slid across the floor and came to an impressive stop right near the island. “So,” he said, gaining more confidence with each person he talked to, “how long does it take to cook a turkey in the microwave?”
Bruce and Bucky both blinked at him. Bucky slowly stood up and walked over to the oven, his phone still in his hand. He pulled a random pair of black aviator sunglasses out of his back pocket and put them on his face. Then, he tapped at his phone and trombones began playing through the speakers. Peter recognized the popular meme song from Timmy Trumpet, and his eyes widened as Bucky yanked open the oven door and began banging it open and closed along with the beat. His eyes gave away nothing behind the dark aviators, and right before the lyrics of the song came on, he turned his phone off and closed the oven door.
“Use the damn oven,” Bucky said before grabbing his plate of plums and walking out of the kitchen.
There were very few times where Peter Parker was speechless, but this was most certainly one of those times.
“D-D-Dr. Banner?” he finally asked after a few moments.
Bruce stuttered a bit, still staring at the doorway where Bucky disappeared. He rubbed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling as he did some calculations in his head. He began muttering to himself as he gathered his papers.
“I mean, Bucky’s right, but let’s say you could find an optimal turkey weight. With the right wattage, it would be feasible…” Bruce’s voice trailed off as he, too, disappeared out of the kitchen, his brain now overtaken with the science challenge.
Peter merely shrugged his shoulders and stole the rest of Bruce’s blueberries before heading out to find his next victim.
“I do not understand.”
“It’s simple,” Peter explained. “How long does it take to cook a turkey in the microwave?”
Vision’s eyes seemed to go in and out of focus as he tried to wrap his supercomputer mind around Peter’s question. “But I don’t understand,” he repeated. “Why wouldn’t you just use Mr. Stark’s oven?”
“Because I can’t!” Peter replied in a voice that he hoped seemed desperate enough. “Please, Vision, you’ve got to help me out!”
Vision turned his head to face Wanda, who was trying hard not to laugh. “I don’t understand,” he said once more.
Peter’s eyes widened. Had he broken Mr. Stark’s prized android?
“Viz,” Wanda said calmly, “Peter is just teasing you. It is a prank.” She winked at Peter. “Very clever though.”
Peter snapped his fingers in defeat. If anyone would be able to see through him, it would definitely be Wanda. “Please don’t tell?” he asked. “I’m not done asking everyone yet.”
Wanda sealed her lips and mimed throwing away the key. “Your secret is safe with me,” she promised. “I think Thor is in his room if you want to pay him a visit.”
Peter smiled brightly. “Thanks!” he exclaimed before jogging out to find the Asgardian.
“Thank goodness,” Vision said once Peter had left. “I was starting to think there was something amiss in my code. A turkey in a microwave? Who would ever think of something so foolish could be possible?”
“Of course it is possible!” Thor boomed, gripping Peter’s shoulder so tightly that the teen was afraid it would be dislocated quite soon. “Just one question...what’s a turkey?”
Peter carefully untangled himself from Thor’s grasp. “It’s an animal. Well, more like a bird, actually. People eat turkeys on Thanksgiving.”
“That’s the holiday Stark was talking about earlier this week, right?” Thor asked. Peter nodded. “So you need to cook this...bird to eat for Thanksgiving?”
“Yeah, and I need to use a microwave to-”
“No worries!” Thor assured him. “I’ll get you a turkey and we can make it together! It will be the best Midgardian Thanksgiving ever!” And he carefully pushed past Peter and bolted down the hall.
“Unbelievable,” a voice scoffed from behind. Peter whirled around to find the God of Mischief standing in the middle of the hall. “My brother is just as dense as ever.”
“At least he’s nice,” Peter shot back, sticking his tongue out at Loki.
Loki merely rolled his eyes before moving around Peter into Thor’s room.
“Hey, while I’ve got you here,” Peter said, “how long do you think it takes-”
Loki slammed the door in his face before he could even finish the question.
“Rude,” Peter whispered to the door. He shook his head, refusing to let the Asgardian ruin his surprisingly fun afternoon.
Now, there was only one person left…
Tony Stark was busy working in his lab when FRIDAY announced Peter’s arrival. He took off his safety goggles and waved the blowtorch at the teen as he came and sat on top of one of the lab counters.
“Hey kiddo,” Tony greeted. “How’s your day going?”
“Awesome!” Peter replied more enthusiastically than normal. “I actually have a question for you…”
“Shoot.”
“How long does it take to cook a turkey in the microwave?”
“Wha-?” Tony asked, his face scrunching up in confusion. “Come again?”
“How long does it-”
“No, kid, I don’t actually need you to repeat it,” Tony said, cutting him off. “Why the heck would you even need to do that?!”
Peter quickly pulled up the story he had used for Steve and Sam in his mind. “Well, see, Aunt May asked me to help her make a turkey for her Thanksgiving work luncheon tomorrow.”
“Why can’t you use your oven?” Tony asked.
“It’s broken,” Peter replied.
“How long’s it been broken?” Tony put the blow torch down and sat next to Peter on the counter.
“A couple weeks,” Peter shrugged, trying to keep the details as vague as possible. “We haven’t been able to fix it.”
Tony, mistaking the teen’s nonchalance for embarrassment, put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s not a big deal-”
“If you and your aunt are having financial issues, you can come to me you know that, right?”
“Wait, what?!” Peter yelped, almost falling off the counter. “Mr. Stark, no! It’s not like that!”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Your aunt works hard, holidays can get expensive.” He waved his index finger at Peter as his eyes lit up. “I’ve got an idea!” He looked up at the ceiling. “FRIDAY!”
“Yes, boss?” the AI replied.
“Find the best oven on the market and have it delivered to the Parker residence,” Tony said.
Peter scrambled off the counter in a panic. “Mr. Stark, you seriously don’t have to-”
“Oh, and FRIDAY?” Tony asked. “Order a turkey with all the fixings and deliver it to May Parker’s work for her luncheon tomorrow.”
“Mr. Stark!”
“And you,” Tony said, wrapping his arms around Peter’s shoulder, “are both coming over on Thursday to celebrate Thanksgiving here.”
“But, but-” Oh god, this was NOT supposed to happen. Tony looked so sincere, and the guilt ate away at Peter's stomach.
“Seriously, kid, no one should celebrate Thanksgiving without a turkey.” Tony gave Peter’s shoulders an affectionate squeeze as he led them over to the elevator. He gently pushed Peter inside before getting in himself.
“MR. STARK!” Peter yelled, causing the man to pause.
“Yes?” Tony asked calmly.
Once Peter started confessing, it all came gushing out like a waterfall.
“It’s a prank! A stupid, silly, prank! I lost a bet with MJ and Ned, and this was my punishment, and if I didn’t do it, there’d be dishonor on my family and my cow - even though I don’t have a cow - and it’s ridiculous! I have to ask everyone in the Tower how long to cook a turkey in a microwave which is impossible no matter what Clint says! Aunt May’s oven is fine and there’s no work luncheon, so PLEASE cancel the oven order because if she thinks that I let you think we didn’t have money she’d kill me and I just got ungrounded and-”
Peter sucked in a deep breath and finally noticed that Tony was holding up his phone at Peter. The inventor’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter and tears were pouring down his cheeks.
“Mr. Stark, what…”
“You should see your face!” Tony guffawed, finally stopping the recording to clutch his stomach. He let out huge, rolling laughs as the elevator dinged their arrival on the main floor.
Peter’s jaw dropped open. “You...you knew?”
“Of course I knew!” Tony exclaimed. “Bruce came down here earlier mumbling about equations for turkeys and microwaves! I checked surveillance and figured out your trick pretty quick.” He wiped his eyes and let out another chuckle. “I got you good, kid.”
Peter clutched his hand to his heart. “Betrayed…” he said slowly. “By my own mentor…”
Tony shoved Peter’s shoulder good-naturedly as he walked out of the elevator. “Aww, c’mon, kid, it’s all in good fun.” He held the elevator door open and gestured for Peter to walk out first. “But seriously,” he said, “you and your aunt are both actually invited over here on Thursday to celebrate.”
Peter perked up. “Really?” he asked, his voice hopeful.
Tony nodded. “Absolutely! We’ll have a great view of the parade and every-” He stopped as a huge crash echoed through the hall. They could both hear people yelling and random gobbling coming from the kitchen area. Peter and Tony looked at each other before dashing off to figure out what was going on. When they rounded the corner into the kitchen, they couldn’t believe the sight before them.
Thor was running around the kitchen trying to capture a ginormous, wild turkey. The turkey gobbled angrily as it ducked under the stools, knocking them over in the process. Clint was perched on the counter next to the open microwave, arms outstretched as he tried to make a grab at the wild bird.
“Why didn’t you just get a dead one from the grocery store?!” Clint screeched.
Thor lunged at the turkey and missed it by mere inches. “Everyone knows prey is best when it is fresh!” he exclaimed angrily.
Tony turned his head slowly to Peter, who was grinning sheepishly at the mess in front of them.
“Whoops?”