Flavorless Town really lived up to its name.
The place even looked bland.
And much to Lance’s and Keith’s dismay, it looked like they would be staying there for quite a while.
You see, the two had been sent on a mission to observe Flavorless Town, and uncover any dark secrets it held. For the last year, Flavorless Town had been invading all its neighboring cities and turning their food into the same gross, gray, flavor-lacking gruel. The saddest thing was, Bobby Flay, the town’s leader, actually thought he was doing the places a favor. That’s how inferior his palette was.
Lance and Keith were from the last town that remained untouched by Bobby’s gruel: Flavortown. And the reigning Lord of Flavortown was the God of Flavor himself, Guy Fieri. The two boys were by far the zestiest residents of their beloved town, making them the best choices for the mission.
However, Guy probably should have chosen a pair with slightly better ninja skills, because Bobby Flay had caught them the second they stepped foot in the dreary place. Of course, dressing as krazy kool as Guy Fieri probably made them easier to spot. He had dragged our duo into his crusty gray kitchen and locked them in, force-feeding them his horrendous gruel and trying to bring them over to the flavorless side.
“Come on, you two… isn’t my cooking just much better than your pathetic savior’s food? He’s absolutely preposterous… who puts salt on and seasons their food?” he had snarled.
It had been torturous.
Finally, their captor excused himself to run a quick errand at the store; he was out of gruel ingredients. Left alone, Lance and Keith prayed and asked Guy Fieri for help to get out of their predicament.
Their savior, in all of his frosted-tipped, sunglassed, flame-shirted glory, responded to the pair’s desperate pleas, using the power of flavor.
“If you really wanna serve Bobby something that puts the ‘shama-lama’ in ‘ding-dong,’ and get back to Flavortown safely, this is what you need to make,” he said telepathically. They listened to his instructions and then got to work. At this time, Bobby Flay returned to the kitchen. Seeing them working, his face curled up into a menacing smile.
“Ah, it seems you’ve read my mind! I was going to strike up a little cooking competition between us~” The two of them shared a look. Of course he would do that. The guy was always challenging innocent cooks, and was addicted to trying to prove he was the best. Little did Bobby know that his captives had the power of the god of Flavor on their side.
They cooked with speed.
They cooked with gusto.
They cooked with love for their flavorful savior.
But most importantly, They cooked with mischief.
The duo followed Guy Fieri’s instructions perfectly. Their hard work resulted in quite the creation: a strawberry cake. However, in lieu of strawberry chunks, the two stirred pieces of raw meat into the frosting, and used spoiled milk found in the back of Mr. Flay’s monstrous fridge. The perfect dish for a sneaky food poisoning. Both cooks supported the plate as they bravely made the procession to the table used for tasting. Bobby Flay looked down at their seemingly innocent baked good.
And then he scoffed.
The dude actually scoffed and turned away from the plate.
What a pompous brat.
“You surely can’t imagine that this measly bit of cake would ever be worthy to defeat the ever powerful Bobby Flay, do you?” His words clearly intended to discourage his captives, but they knew that in order to get out of this kitchen, they couldn’t let down their confident demeanor.
Mirroring Bobby’s cocky attitude, Lance quipped, “So you’re just not gonna eat it, huh~?”
Keith joined in, saying, “Wow, scared a couple kids from Flavortown’ll show you up?”
Bobby’s eyes widened.
He took the bait.
Poor guy couldn’t even stop himself.
Grabbing the cake with his bare hand, he took a bite as big as his newly threatened ego. He chewed angrily, but slowly and surely, his face lit up in surprise, despite him obviously trying to remain surly.
Breathless, he whispered, “Goodness… it’s a cake… yet you’ve achieved such a deliciously smokey flavor! And the smokey frosting pairs so well with the tanginess of the cake… exquisite!”
Lance stifled a snort. Was he for real? The guy couldn’t tell the difference between steak and strawberries! No wonder he was the leader of Flavorless Town. Bobby was too wrapped up in their “wonderful” baking to even complete the competition and have the duo taste his dish. They were truly blessed that Guy Fieri had the cooking expertise to make even poisoned food taste so good that you could, as he would say, “put it on a flip-flop and it would still be off the hook”.
While Mr. Flay was busy unknowingly embarrassing himself over his love of awful food, the two sent another prayer to the Flavorful Lord above them to conveniently speed up Bobby Flay’s digestive process, if you’re picking up what I’m putting down. Their savior came through, as always.
Their captor’s face fell.
They could actually hear his stomach churning in protest at what it had just been forced to handle.
In a frenzy, the troubled man fled to the bathroom. Sealing the door behind him, Bobby unknowingly sealed his fate as well. He wasn’t coming out of that bathroom, at least not until he had taken care of his poisoning problem, and by that time, the two would be long gone. Even then, Lance wedged a stool underneath the door handle for good measure. The tables had officially turned, especially since Keith was going on a rampage and flipping every table in sight in a savage manner. Now came the next step in their recipe for salvation: the door.
It was an intimidating thing, solid wood, and engraved with an image of Bobby Flay standing atop a mountain of unconscious cooks. A speech bubble coming from Bobby’s mouth held the text “Beat Bobby Flay? More like YEET Bobby Flay~”.
...yeah, he definitely deserved what he got.
But what really salted our duo’s apples was the fact that the only way through was to enter a passcode. The only copy of that passcode was inside Bobby’s head. Seeing as Mr. Flay was rather preoccupied at the moment, Lance and Keith had to resort to brute force. In this instance, the meat tenderizing mallet became their savior.
Lance beat that door like there was no tomorrow.
Bit by bit, it weakened.
Bobby groaned in pain from the bathroom.
The wood splintered, and Bobby’s carved face became unrecognizable. Perfect. They didn’t want to see his stupid face anyway. Now, all the door needed was one final hit. Although neither cook made a good ninja, there was one move that Keith had managed to perfect. It was called the “Escaping-from-Flavorless-Town’s-Leader’s-Kitchen-After-Tenderizing-the-Door-that-Really-Shows-His-Narcissistic-Qualities Kick”. And boy did he do that kick perfectly. Just like Flavorless Town, it really lived up to its name.
The door shattered.
It shattered like Bobby Flay’s self esteem after realizing he’d been bested by the kool kidz of Flavortown.
Cheering, screaming, celebrating, and praising Guy Fieri, Lance and Keith rushed through that flavorless doorway, but not before Keith performed one last act of revenge on Bobby. Wrenching open the fridge, he grabbed as many eggs as he could in each hand. He hurled them down with all his might, screeching out an inhuman noise as they broke on the cold linoleum floor. And that was it.
They didn’t just beat Bobby Flay, no.
They a n n i h i l a t e d Bobby Flay.
The dude didn’t even see it coming.
As the final event in their adventure, our duo asked the ever-present, ever-glorious, and ever-flavorful Guy Fieri for a sooper kool kar to take them back to Flavortown in a way that just screamed “winner winner, stylin’ dinner”. Although Lance and Keith hadn’t succeeded in their original mission, they had made Guy proud by completely embarrassing his flavorless rival. He also let them know that he was cooking up a wicked strong plan on how to restore the flavor in the world and eradicate all that was flavorless.
As the car turned down the exit route to Flavortown, Lance and Keith heard in their heads,
“You guys, that was totally gangster!”