Fandom High School

Today's class was in the most epic kitchen yet, a large arena with stadium-style seating that could easily fit hundreds. A four-sided screen hung above their heads, showing close ups of the currently empty stade. On the stage sat three pristine kitchen areas, their sous chefs standing patiently to one side, everything there clean and modern-looking stainless steel. At one end was a long wooden table, where their teachers were standing next to not one but two bound individuals.

Er....

Raven looked from her kidnap victim guest judge of the week to the other one. ". . . I thought I was the one getting the guest judges? I mean. Not that I'm complaining. . . ."

"Well this is awkward," Kathy agreed, looking at her kidnap victim guest judge. "I figured you were doing all the, uhh, obtaining? Of our guest judges? And that I should pull my weight and she--" Kathy nudged Kenzi "--was at the diner when I came downstairs, so..."

"Two judges!" Raven said, turning to the class. "It's our last class so we went all out! This is definitely all according to plan."

"Yes?" Kathy said dubiously. "I mean, yes! Definitely all according to plan! This time, you'll have to present your dishes to four judges! Who should introduce themselves so you can get to know them!"

To be clear, it was so that the class could get to know the judges. As opposed to the teachers who had obviously met both before and had gotten their consent to be, err...borrowed.

“I’ve been told I will be compensated for my trauma in food,” said the first person. Kenzi was looking hopefully around, because, free eats! “This kidnapping was very traumatizing and upsetting. I mean, way worse than the last four alien invasions. Really. Do we get dessert out of this?”

"And an appetizer and a main course," Raven assured her, and waved a little. "You should maybe give them a name." Whichever Kenzi happened to prefer just now would work fine.

“My name?” Kenzi clarified, as only a veteran of Fandom and various lock-ups could. “...Taylor Swift.” She grinned at the student chefs. “As far as you know. I work in town at Caritas on Mondays, Luke’s on Wednesdays, I’m a graduate of the class of 2014, and this person next to me owes me a beer.” That would be you, Miss Superhero.

“If I owed anyone a beer it would totally not be ‘Taylor Swift’,” the red-headed girl next to her said, rolling her eyes. “Her name is Kenzi and she will not get a beer from me because beer is almost as disgusting as coffee.” She stuck her tongue out at the girl and then turned back to the class, totally composed again. “Ahem. My name is Momoko Akatsutsumi and I am also a graduate of the school. Class of 2011. Somehow Kenzi and I are friends, but we totally didn’t plan this and I promise that it won’t affect my awesome judging abilities. Food is too important.”
She leaned around to look at her kidnapper. “This will be edible food, right? Do I need to make a reservation for after to cleanse my palate?”

“It will totally affect my abilities. I think bribes are appropriate here,” Kenzi said, sticking her tongue back out at Momoko. “This is why I don’t invite you to my raves. You never contribute the right kinda beer. Also, note that she is way older than me. Olllllld. Keep that in mind.”

Momoko kicked Kenzi under the table, not at all showing anything on her face.

"Oh my god. The students can hear you," Raven said, wondering if maybe she should have included a gag in her kidnapping recruitment gear this week. "We are very confident in all three of your abilities to make edible food," she told the students. "You've done great for the last six weeks."

"They’ve only been cooking for six weeks?!” Momoko muttered, reaching for her phone ready to text Doctor Lector to send her a bento...

Kenzi, meanwhile, had been sliding closer and closer to the Secret Ingredient table to get a glimpse of what they were in for.

Kathy leaned forward and swatted at Kenzi. "Oh my god, will you behave?" she hissed. "Anyway, students, for your final class, our secret ingredient today is cheese. All cheese. Any kind of cheese. There are almost as many kinds of cheese as there are breads, which means that your only limit is your imagination. And because of that..." She paused dramatically. "We won't be accepting cheesecake as an entry for dessert. You're more creative that that."

Momoko stared at Kathy, eyes wide. “No cheesecake?!”

Kenzi patted Momoko sympathetically. “We’re feeling very betrayed. Make it up to us.”

"You'll still get dessert," Kathy sighed, realizing their class had never given them half as much trouble as these two, uhh, guest judges. "So there's that. Are we ready to begin?"

"We'd better be, or we'll waste the whole class on introductions alone," Raven said. "So . . . go!"

This week's classroom set was all dark wood and chrome. A blackboard on one side had the "Iron Fandom" logo on it, along with some fancy chalk drawings of knives and cabbages.

The two hosts were joined at the judges' table this week by a cantakerous looking older gentleman who was shooting Raven dark looks.

"Really," he said. "If you'd simply mentioned there was food, I'd've been happy to come along without being dragged bodily."

Someone had handwavily missed being able to show his disapproval via emphasis yesterday, yes.

"I'll remember that for next time," Raven assured him, not looking even remotely chagrined.

"Well," said Jenkins. ". . . Good."

"It's just an hour-long imposition," Kathy said apologetically. "And then you'll be free to go, I promise. Think of it as being kidnapped to do radio, but with more food?"

Again, she wasn't doing anything crazy, like telling him he could go or anything like that. They had students to judge. But at least he knew it wasn't going to be permanent?

"Hi class, welcome to Iron Fandom--" Kathy paused for the musical sting they were still doing, five weeks later, "--and this is our special guest judge, er..." Oops. She hadn't gotten his name.

"Jenkins," said Jenkins, and wiggled his fingers at the students with a smirk. "Charmed."

"I hope you all —" she glanced over at Jenkins. "— all of you — like spice, because this week's secret ingredient is hot!" A pause. "Um. I think?" She grimaced and looked over at Kathy. She probably should have practiced this part. "Probably?" She was pretty sure when she ate it it had been spicy, but what if that had just happened to be a spicy recipe for it?

Er.

Kathy was not going to snicker. She wasn't. Even if Raven was kind of adorably clueless. "Kimchi," she said, taking over explanation duties, "is a staple in more Korean meals and has been for centuries. It's so ubiquitous, in fact, that many homes have a kimchi refrigerator in them, to keep kimchi fresh for longer. Like Raven said, many of them are kind of spicy, but there are about two hundred varieties available, made with different seasonings and ingredients. Most kimchi is made from pickled or fermented napa cabbage or Korean radishes, but the base ingredients can really be any kind of vegetable."

It was about then that Kathy realized she was probably going into waaay too much detail and subsided with a blush before she could start explaining which kimchi was appropriate for what season.

Well. At least Jenkins looked interested?

"That's right," Raven said. "We're going to make you guys make an appetizer, a main course, and a dessert out of pickled vegetables." She grinned. "Aren't you so glad you're in this class?"

The tent from last week was gone and in its place was a bright chrome kitchen with the words Iron Fandom written on the vents. Next to individual tables stood the sous chefs, looking quiet and professional--though Pinkie's braids were starting starting to unravel on her sous chef's head.

Special guest judge Hardison walked into the Danger Shop, looked at the sous chefs, and burst out laughing. "Everythin' about this class is perfect an' beautiful," he announced. And then continued to laugh.

You girls do your thing. He was going to be busy for a little while. With the giggles.

"Welcome back, everyone." Raven threw Hardison a smile and a wink, then faced the class. She was getting better and better at this whole 'faking it until she made it' business. She almost even felt normal this week. "And welcome our very special guest judge of the week, computer guru and lord of the world's most perfect food (hot pockets): Hardison!"

The APPLAUSE sign appeared again, encouraging the students to clap for their guest judge.

Hardison, still chortling, gave a little wave. "Hey," he greeted the class, trying to talk through his laugher. "I was--I was told that today's special ingredient is bread, so uhh..." He glanced back to the braided sous chef and lost it, flailing at Kathy to continue.

Kathy was also smiling, mostly at how positively gleeful Hardison looked. "He's right," she said. "Today's Iron Fandom--" pause for the musical sting "--will feature bread as the main ingredient that needs to be featured in your appetizer, main course, and dessert. White, wheat, baguettes, ciabatta, even pita if you want. There are plenty of different types of bread for you to choose from."

"You can also try cooking your own, if you think you'll have time," Raven added. "But we only have an hour, so try not to over-do it. I . . . think you guys probably know the deal now? Hardison, do you have any sage advice?"

"Hmm?" Hardison put his phone back in his pocket, trying to look innocent and not like he'd been taking pictures of the sous chefs. "Oh, uhh, use your time wisely?" he suggested, sneaking another peek at the holograms. "An' make sure you use your--" he started snickering again "--sous chefs--" more giggles "--to their full potential..."

Yeah, he was done. And cackling.

So...Kathy and Raven were teaching a class. Well, sorta. Did a summer workshop session really count as a class? Or maybe it counted as a class, but it didn't actually make them teachers. Kathy didn't think she was ready for the responsibility of being a teacher. But overseeing a workshop based on a reality TV show she and Raven had mainlined for a few days? Yeah, that was almost small enough to wrap her brain around.

Ignore the way she was wringing her hands up until class started though. That was totally unrelated. Really.

Raven was kind of wishing she had some cheeseburgers to stress eat her way through, like she'd done at the welcome picnic. But it seemed kind of tacky to do that when you were planning to, you know, judge your students' food. She was supposed to keep her palate clean. Or something. So she was stress eating her nails instead. Or gnawing on them, anyway. She had full control over the shape and length of her nails at all times, so biting them off tended to get a little . . . uncomfortable.

"Um," she said, when it seemed like the whole class was here. All . . . three of them. They were all kind of dwarfed by the Danger Shop's current dramatic kitchen set up. At least everyone would have lots of room to spread out?

Hurray.

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