Young Writers Society

Crazy Bin 000: 

The Kitchen Where The Pros Go

Kierce had always hated running. Something about the activity had always seemed so… degrading to her.

The young girl had always lived in vast places full of piles and piles of junk – such as the ones she was dashing through with all her strength – so it didn’t help her finding any fond memories of either the activity itself, or the random items scattered on the ground she associated with it - scissor blades, phones, pens, glasses, and so many other things she had stopped trying to identify. 

Kierce had to almost leap over the ground with each step, and not only was it tiring, every part of the ground dirtied the pants of her favorite yellow jumpsuit, the golden-colored rapier by the side of her leg felt slightly heavy as she ran - which was, she had to admit, most annoying - and Kierce was forced to be careful not to fall miserably on one of the cardboard boxes she just passed and ruin her chances of successfully hurrying up. Adding to that the sweat that she knew would appear in her jumpsuit, Kierce concluded once again that running was an evil, counter-productive activity created for the sole purpose of making human beings fall, and suffering from the pain of said fall, only to get up and resume the terrible cycle.

Only masochists could ever find pleasure in running.

A beeping by her wrist interrupted Kierce’s thought process. She pressed on, her ungraceful advance through the familiar scrapyard before her eyes suddenly becoming a second-rate worry on her priority list. She didn’t need to look at her watch: she knew that she was already late when she reached The Nest. 

The Nest... So had been nicknamed the town-sized group of abandoned power plants after an unknown accident had struck the place with eternal decay. Kierce was used to the cloudy air and constant gray clouds floating over the place, so she had no trouble locating a smaller, dome-shaped building among the others, and directed herself towards its entrance.

“Chef!” Kierce shouted as she opened the door. “Chef, where are y–”

“Whooooaaaa heeey Kissss!”

Kierce sighed as a well-known figure slid past her, moving his arms in all directions to try and keep a balance that he clearly did not possess. The green blur dashed by again, this time in the other direction, still screaming with surprise and a hint of joyful excitement.

…Ben. Full time self-proclaimed “weapon maker extraordinaire” under the nickname Burn Benkei, and part-time annoying brat of a younger brother.

*

*

*

“…Hmmmm…”

Benkei stared at the page of his new edition of his favorite book series – entitled How To Become a Good Gearsmith: The Basics – seemingly stuck.

“…Hrrrrrmmmm…!”

His amber eyes looked alternatively at the “Final Result” image shown in the book and the item he had created: a pair of dark green rollerblades, with an added tube at the end of each, made specifically for the jet propulsion feature he had – hopefully – successfully installed. Though the colors and shape had been altered to fit his style and available materials, the overall shape had been flawlessly replicated.

“…SUCCESS!” Benkei shouted, springing up from the ground as he carefully placed the book on the ground. “Okay, okay, now I should… cheat a little… and…!”

He grabbed a scrap cutting pen next to his book and engraved a simple series of runes on the side of each shoe. Benkei glanced at the book once more.

“’The user should then engrave Order Runes on the desired items.’” He read. “‘A warning: the order issued to the completed piece will need the user’s magical endurance as fuel, and should not be abused to prevent the user from exhausting him/herself, and to prevent the item from overloading. A Fire elemental rune would be best, though others can be used, but will require more magical endurance from the user.’” Benkei grinned. “Well, I don’t have much endurance, but I’m Heat-bound, so, I’m fine, right?” with that, Benkei finished writing the runes and quickly reached for the dark green vest he had left hanging on a metallic pole. He grabbed the rollerblades and walked through the giant junkyard he had lived inside all his life, holding his brown ponytail with one hand to prevent any metallic drops to reach it. Once the vast corridor he was searching for found, he put on his rollerblades, smiling to himself.

“Oookay, time to fly!” Benkei exclaimed. “So now I’m supposed to say… Ignite!”

The runes on the rollerblades immediately lit up, and the boy found himself dashing through the corridor at amazing speed. Taken by surprise, he let out a long scream as he attempted to regain his balance.

Well! At least he could confirm that the rollerblades were indeed working. Being unable to stop however… Was not part of the plan.

*

*

*

“…Ben.” Kierce began. “What are you doing at a time like this?”

“HEEEELP! CAN’T CONTROOOL!”

Putting the backpack that never left her side on the ground, Kierce opened it and pulled out what looked like a metallic book. She took it in one hand and her rapier with the other. Using the weapon like an oversized pen, she drew the symbols of her book in the air. A flurry of sparks appeared at the tip of the blade, and at the same time, a squadron of metallic birds appeared among the surrounding piles of scrap metal. They flew to Benkei’s side and grabbed him with their talons, gradually decreasing his speed as they flapped their two pairs of wings.

“Ignite: Off!” Benkei shouted. The fiery stream at the end of his rollerblades disappeared, and he finally stopped, taking them off as soon as he did. “Whew!” he sighed. “Thanks a ton for that, Kiss!”

“When will you stop calling me by this ridiculous nickname?” Kierce couldn’t help but ask as she sheathed her rapier and put her book back in her bag.

“Started when I was a baby, so, old habits die hard?” Benkei argued.

“Well, apparently, you’re still a baby, if you feel comfortable enough to play around when Chef needs us.”

“Heeey!” the other one protested. “I’m working here! Chef said I needed to work on my mobility equipment, and I finally came up with a neat idea!”

Kierce raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘neat’.”

“…Okay, I don’t control it yet. But I did try an’ use the rune stuff you’ve been teaching me, and it worked!”

“I’ll admit, you’ve done well in mastering those well enough for jet propulsion purposes.” Kierce admitted. “But still, I specialize in Spark, and you specialize in Heat: I can therefore only teach you the general basics, and you can still barely use them.”

“Hey, I’m the one makin’ the gear while you spend your time making your creepy drones all around the place, so sorry if I like the magic experience.”

"Working on my drone formations take time and effort." Kierce objected. "...And they're not creepy."

Benkei pointed at her. “’Maybe, but you’re the one who comes from a rich family or something, right? Didn’t they give you natural magic skills or something?”

“Maybe they did, but do you mind if we talk about my lineage later? I’ve completed the task Chef gave me, and you also completed yours, apparently, so why are we still here?”

“Because brotherly bickering with Burn Benkei’s the best thing there is!”

“Too many Bs.” Kierce commented as she ran past him. “Now hurry up already!”

“…Chef would’ve loved it.” Benkei muttered as he followed his sister inside the dome.”

*

*

*

“Up at six, like a morning glory!

Fix breakfast at my inventory!

Get to the point: won’t bore you with my story!

Surprise: it’s EGGS!”

Yonder Yagmul, better known by his pairs as The Gear Chef - or simply Chef by his two newest recruits - sung to himself as he meticulously cleaned the tools of his beloved kitchen, the only presentable place in the junkyard he had chosen to be his hideout.

“Gotta rule over all them zones!

Got the tones that’s blowing up phones!

But when I’m hungry you know I’m gonna jones for EGGS!”

The Chef took a chair next to a desk and hopped on it, gazing at his impeccable white cooking outfit, carefully placing an oversized cooking hat on top of his blond head. It was as big as his child-sized body, but it would have to do. Maybe he’d start a trend with oversized hats for tiny men, if everything went well.

“Fettuccine a la ovo!

In the kitchen where the pros go!

I’ll cook you something pro bono!

But all I know is EGGS – I’m a chef I roll hard!”

In reality – and this despite singing his favorite song – The Chef was stressed, as he wasn’t sure if Kierce had made the necessary steps for him to begin the recording. All he needed was for her to step in his kitchen and confirm she had completed her mission, and the first recording of a potentially long series would begin.

“Huevos Rancheros!

Or Motuleños!

Dropping jalapeños!

Like: Bapapapapa, bapapa!”

The door to The Chef’s kitchen burst open with Kierce and Benkei appearing in his sight. His eyes lit up as he put a hand in his pocket and pressed the button of a remote controller hidden in it: the music immediately stopped. “Well?” The Chef asked in a grave tone.

“Good and bad news, Chef.” Kierce began. “Good news is: All the preparations are over. The Andarr Control Network is ready for us, and all we have to do is record our pilot episode for people to watch. Bad news is, they’re making a live feeding of all the new trailers, they’ve already started, and we didn’t record anything yet. If we don’t hurry, we won’t even have time to appear.”

The Chef let a satisfied grin appear on his face. “Then let’s hurry.” he exclaimed. “We finally get to show these fools that even the junk they get rid of every day can be used to create beautiful things, so we sure as heck aren’t gonna miss that chance! C’mon kids, in positions! We’ve got work to do…”

*

*

*

“…Ah! Ladies and gentleman of Dorlodjinn, it seems that one more trailer for the Andarr Network Initiative reached our station! Ah, but just in case you’ve just connected yourself to the broadcast, allow us to explain this once again. Jamie?”

“Heard ya loud and clear, Andy! So, the Andarr Network Initiative is an online gathering of indie shows that try to attract attention to you fine folks. Today’s the first day of the global broadcast, which means that not only can anyone in the world can join, anyone in the world can follow and vote for the shows that appeal to them the most. It starts with a fancy trailer to give y’all some context, and then we’ll have a few episodes the following days. Any means can be used to attract your attention, so don’t be surprised to see frequent mixes of technology and magic runes in all these shows!”

“Good point, Jamie! Though don’t forget, ladies and gentlemen, we’re also using this broadcast to raise some awareness to the lost continent, after the terrible Graveyard Incident turned it into a giant scrapyard. Please donate for them too! Now then, without further ado, let’s watch this next trailer, entitled ‘Crazy Bin’. Sounds wacky, alright!”

After a short pause following the two hosts’ intervention, a new video indeed appeared in front of the people of Dorlodjinn, all connected through their various home screens. A tiny man dressed like a fancy cooking chef made its appearance, smiling cheerfully. He was standing on a red chair, while an impeccable kitchen appeared behind his back.

“Helloooo, people of Dorlodjinn!” he exclaimed, bowing gracefully. “Welcome to Crazy Bin, the kitchen where the pros go! You may call me Gear Chef, for I intend to bake some wonderful things for your viewing pleasure. What wonderful things, you ask?”

The cook slowly faded from the screen, replaced by the image of a giant cauldron. An adventurous tune began, as the cook’s voice began speaking.

“Imagine, even for just a second… that you could use your kitchen to cook not just food, but creatures, items, and worlds alike.”

Weapons, books, toys, robots and even fields appeared on the screen and replaced one another, absorbed by the cauldron.

“Imagine that, finally, your imagination could take shape the way you want it, using our world’s magic system as a tool, and your creativity as a recipe…”

Several sheets of paper appeared as well, with various Djinnian magic runes written on them.

“Imagine that, should you ever run out of ideas, you could explore the other, forbidden parts of the world surrounding our continent and discover brand new recipes for you to make…”

The cauldron disappeared and the Gear Chef took its place. Though this time, he wasn’t alone: a teenage girl with short black hair and a yellow jumpsuit stood at his right, while a younger boy with a large brown ponytail, dressed in a dark green attire with metallic epaulets and military boots stood at his left.

“Well, imagine no more.” The Chef said solemnly. “Throughout the episodes of this show, my associates and I will use this kitchen to craft new items, creatures and, with enough space, places for you to explore through the eyes of our cameras, so that you can see where creativity can lead you.”

“Call me Kierce.” The girl said as a metallic spider climbed on her shoulder. “I am the Toymancer, the one who explores realms outside of our continent to find the materials needed for the recipe.”

“And I’m Benkei!” the boy exclaimed joyfully. “Armed Herald, at your service! My job’s to bring our Gear Chef’s creations once the recipes are completed wherever we need to test its efficiency.”

“And I, as the Gear Chef, will be using my kitchen tools to make the recipes real.” The Chef concluded. “The more episodes we make, the more chances you have to see your own idea cooked here, so don’t be afraid to follow us and see what we make.”

“Interactivity: that’s keyword.” Kierce added.

“And don’t be afraid to send us anything!” Benkei exclaimed. “A doodle, a drawing, or even a single word can be used for us to make a recipe for ya!”

Kierce raised an eyebrow. “Don’t believe us?”

The Chef smiled. “Challenge accepted, then: you just wait and see how far we’ll go. See you tomorrow, then! And don’t forget to enjoy the rest of the Andarr Control Initiative. Without further ado… Gear Chef…”

“Toymancer…”

“Armed Herald…”

All three of them put a hand next to their head, parodying a military salute. “…Signing out!” they exclaimed in unison before the screen turned back.