ENG - My best friend's sister ᵐᶦᵏᵉʸ ˣ ᵒᶜ

37

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We painstakingly scrape together the dough that has spread across the work surface and transport it back to the bowl and mix it again, properly this time. As we do so, our hands touch and I feel a comforting tingle run from my fingertips through my entire body.
"Now just put it in the baking dish and in the oven," I finally say. No sooner said than done. Thankfully, the transfer to the baking pan goes smoothly, and now we're both crouched in front of the oven, watching in anticipation as the cake slowly rises.
"This is never going to taste good," I mutter skeptically, while Mikey just says disappointedly, "And how is it going to turn into my dinosaur?" Smirking, I just shake my head and look at him as he stares intently into the oven. I stand up and look at the mess that surrounds us. There are scraps of dough and flour everywhere, and I sigh.
"Come help me, we need to clean up," I say, and Mikey gets up grumbling to help me clean up.
"Hey," he calls suddenly, and as I turn to face him, I feel something cold and soft on my face. Before I can protest, I inhale the flour and have to cough, and he just grins mischievously.
"Just you wait, you'll regret this!", I shout and grab a handful of flour as well to throw it in his face. Within seconds, our little flour attack turns into a full-blown flour fight. We throw flour in each other's faces and laugh as we cover each other with clouds of white powder. The kitchen quickly turns into a white of flour, and white trails everywhere the eye can see around our cooking island. Even the kitchen utensils that were previously neat and tidy lined up are now covered in a fine layer of flour. Our clothes and hair are covered from head to toe with flour, and our faces have funny white patterns. The whole situation is so silly and unexpected that we can hardly keep on our feet laughing. And even the others here start laughing along a bit, as they seem to be enjoying themselves with us.

Suddenly we hear the door open and the instructor come in. His astonished gaze wanders from us to the trashed kitchen and back again as he rolls his mustache between his fingers. An awkward silence spreads as we struggle to suppress our laughter. Finally he clears his throat, his tone half amused, half annoyed, and with a hint of amusement in his voice he utters the words, "I see you've had your fun. But now it's time to clean this place up."
We nod contritely and set about cleaning up the flour mess. The instructor, who remains in the room this time, watches us warily as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed. He is still giving us skeptical looks and admonishes us with an angry clearing of his throat when Mikey can't help but keep throwing the flour he picks up at me.

When we're finally done, the alarm also goes off for our cake in the oven. We carefully open the oven door, a warm cloud of fragrance coming towards us, and we take out our failed pastry. The golden-brown crust shines with promise, but I have a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach at the thought of tasting it.
"So we're going to make a dinosaur out of this?" asks Mikey, a little incredulously, and I nod hesitantly. While our cake cools on a cake rack, Mikey digs his phone out of his pocket and watches a video on how to carve it into a dinosaur shape. I look in the book for instructions on the cream to coat it with, and try to get the mixture to go with green food coloring. Some time later, after Mikey insists on decorating it himself, we are faced with the finished result, which looks more like a failed work of art. The dinosaur's teeth, eyes and spikes are molded from chocolate chips. The cake is decorated with green cream, which is uneven and irregularly applied, but still exudes a certain charm.

Amazingly, we still have about half an hour before the three hours run out; it doesn't seem that long at all. When the instructor finally announces that time is up, we boldly place our dinosaur cake next to our classmates' other creations. Although our creation is less perfect than the other cakes, we can't help but smile when we notice the surprised and amused looks of the other participants.
The instructor goes from table to table, carefully examining each cake before making notes on his clipboard. We watch intently as he pauses at our dinosaur cake and can't help but grin. Although we are unsure how he will evaluate our work, we feel a certain satisfaction when we see that he is also amused by our failed masterpiece. Finally, it is time to taste the cakes. The leader doesn't hesitate for long and takes a piece straight into his mouth, he quirks his eyebrow a bit and goes back to making notes on his board and wordlessly moves on to the next ones. Bravely, I also take a piece of our dino and try it. I grimace in disgust, at my reaction Mikey also takes a piece and also grimaces in disgust while still sticking his tongue out at the same time.
"At least he looks cool," he consoles himself with that and I just laugh.
"What kind of dinosaur is that supposed to be?", I ask him, not recognizing anything in it at all.
"A T-Rex, you can tell!" he says proudly. I look at it again skeptically, but I still don't recognize a T-Rex.

At the end he announces the points and as expected we are not the winners. From a possible 100 points we got 7, with the reason "creative and courageous approach". We still hand in our stamp card, where our score and participation is recorded, and then we are dismissed. Once outside, I stretch for a moment and sigh.
"Well, at least no 0 points," he laughs, looking happily at the card, and I can't help but laugh along.
"What fun thing are we going to do next?" he asks afterwards, and I look at him shaking my head.
"You can do whatever you want, I'm going to take a shower first, and you should do the same," I add, and together we walk back to the trailer. Arrived I get clean clothes from my suitcase and immediately disappear in the direction of the shower.

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The Cake: