18. S1: Froggie Lickin' Good

This chapter was pure torture to write and rewrite. There's a bunch of problems in development that I'm not gonna go into here but if you're curious, I'm posting it on my Tumblr. Until then, enjoy the read :)

If there was one absolute in this world that she learned, it would be Hop Pop's cooking.

Now, everyone can cook — she got that from a movie — but that didn't mean everyone can cook well. Hop Pop's cooking was the prime example of that. So for the past few weeks, Sasha Waybright, the human teenage girl, was forced to sustain herself via pre-packaged foods. Now, there's nothing wrong with that but she had to admit, she did miss having warm food on a plate.

So, if she couldn't eat Hop Pop's cooking, then the best solution would be to cook her own.

At the Plantar household, more specifically the kitchen, Sasha was wearing a frilly pink apron. A pair of chopsticks at hand, she stirred an egg mixture in a hot pan with finesse, melding the ingredients together. Leaving it for a few seconds, a thin smooth crust formed on the surface while the centre was still fluid and bright yellow. Steadily, she began folding the egg, creating a sort of egg hot pocket.

On a nearby plate, she had earlier placed a small bowl's worth of fried rice. There, Sasha lifted the pan and nudged the egg on top. With a knife, she then made a shallow cut from one end to the other, allowing gravity to pull the egg open, blanketing the rice. Finally, a ladle of demi-glace sauce was poured on top, along with a chilli pepper garnish.

Sasha smiled, accomplished. "Lunch is served! Today's special: omurice."

Omurice. Traditionally known as a Japanese dish, variations have been found all over the world with no known common origin. What Sasha has made, however, was a special type of omurice popularized by a master chef, known for its appearance and jiggly-ness.

Now, how did Sasha, who was obviously not Japanese, know about all of this?

The answer: Marcy, one of Sasha's best friends. Marcy was a kind soul who loved anime and video games, but unfortunately, was born with two left feet. Being easily influenced, Marcy saw it one time on television and immediately went straight to her friends. She would've asked for Anne's help but for some reason, instead went to Sasha. One thing led to another and now Sasha was somewhat Marcy's test cook whenever Anne wasn't around.

Marcy, though, was not allowed in a kitchen without supervision. Something about spontaneous combustion.

Back in the other world, in the kitchen with her, Sprig Plantar and Polly Plantar A.K.A. the Plantar kids awed at the breathtaking dish laid in front of them. With watery mouths, they quickly grabbed a spoon and chowed down on the dish, savouring each bite.

Sprig hummed. "Hmm… Sweet but super rich!"

"IT'S SO JIGGLY AND I LOVE IT!" Polly screamed praise.

Pridefully, Sasha smirked. If she was a cartoon character in the 1930s, her nose would've grown 3 times long from all that smug. A finger gun under her chin, she chuckled. Her smugness rose exponentially. "Well, I used to cook at home a lot. You pick up a few skills here and there."

With her parents being busy at work, it wasn't uncommon for Sasha to have a quiet home life. While she did spend most of her day out of the house, either with her friends or afterschool clubs, at night was a different story. She'd be busy with homework, doing the chores and preparing dinner for herself.

"Mmm, this is good! Personally, I would've added a bit of boomshroom in." Sprig shoved into him another spoonful. "You know, maybe you can cook us lunch from now on."

"An interesting offer but"— Sasha turned to the side. —"I don't think Hop Pop is okay with that."

Nearby on one of the chairs sat Hopadiah Plantar, currently bound with thick pieces of rope. Self-proclaimed as the best cook in the house, he did not look happy. "HERESY! BLASPHEMOUS! GRANDMAMA PLANTAR, SAVE ME!"

"It's just fried rice, old man."

"It's not the rice I'm complaining about! It's those." Hop Pop hissed.

Now, Sasha was no cook. She cooked but she wouldn't declare herself as one. That title belonged to Anne. So during the Thai-American's birthday shopping spree, one of the things Sasha pushed her to buy were a few cooking magazines. To her credit, she knew that Anne liked to cook so it wasn't completely baseless.

Considering how long she's been here without touching a spatula, it was reasonable of her to brush up her skills.

She just never realized that Hop Pop would be so vehemently against that.

"If you wanted a cookbook, you could've just asked! I would've lent you the old Plantar recipes."

"Yeah, and get myself killed the third time? No thanks." Sasha replied bluntly.

"B-b-but you can't have a random cookbook by some unknown 30's-something chef alongside one of the Plantars' most precious heirlooms! What would ol' gam-gam think?!"

There, on the wall, was a framed photo of the said Plantar, still as grumpy as ever. Sasha quickly grabbed and flipped it around. "She'd say for us to move on. Look, if it makes you happy, I'll keep the books in the basement. Out of sight, out of mind."

Hop Pop blinked. "That does make me happy, actually." He then turned to Sprig and Polly. "Kids, save some for me! I want to try a bit."

"Here you go, Hop Pop."

Still tied up and all, Sprig passed a spoon of omurice into Hop Pop's chompers. The old frog chewed slowly, taking his time to appreciate the flavours. Swallowing, he gasped. "Wowie, that's actually pretty good!"

"Right?!" Sasha exclaimed happily. "And all in one try."

Once spotless, Sprig politely patted his lips clean with a napkin. "Mmm, delish. Hey, we should celebrate!"

Sasha raised a brow. "Celebrate? Dude, all I did was cook."

"Yeah, but you made something really good! So why not celebrate?" Sprig added. "We could go to Stumpy's. Everybody likes the food at Stumpy's."

Hop Pop nodded. "Well, I don't see why not. Freshen up, kids. We'll go in an hour."

""YAY!"" Everyone else cheered in excitement, running off to get ready. It wasn't always that they had a chance to eat out. As everyone ran to their respective rooms, Hop Pop was left alone, still tied to the chair.

Hop Pop grunted against his restraints.

…

…

…

"... Kids? Uh, a little help, please?"

Stumpy's Diner, also known simply as Stumpy's, was the best restaurant in town.

Well, not really. It was a fairly average restaurant but nothing of high quality. Unlike Felicia's Tea Shoppe, Stumpy's had a large selection of dishes in big portions and at low prices. If the tea shop was for fancy and well-off customers, then the diner was more for the common folk.

"Here we are, kids! Good ol' Stumpy's." Hop Pop exclaimed as they passed through the front door.

Sasha whistled. "Phew… This place is a dump."

The teen had seen her fair share of restaurants and diners. Stumpy's, though? Although she's no expert, even she can tell the vast number of health and cleanliness violations. Everything about this place just spelt 'deathtrap', followed by very vulgar language. If Anne was here, she'd criticize everything to the smallest dust mite. If Marcy was here, she'd probably choke on a straw or something.

Oh, and the smell. Sasha almost barfed.

Snatching themselves a table, they quickly got to ordering. Sprig already had something in mind and immediately chose something for everyone. It was reasonable.

To her surprise, the service there was lightning fast, the food served in literally a minute. To not her surprise, it looked like mud.

"Here you are; 4 bowls of slop." The chef and owner, Stumpy, boredly said. Interestingly, he did not have hands. Instead, they were replaced with simple prosthetics. "Enjoy, or don't. Makes no difference to me."

"Thanks, Stumpy," said Sprig.

Sasha stared at her serving, the liquid bubbling slowly. A single fly landed on the bowl's edge, only to instantly drop dead upon touch.

Hop Pop grinned. "Ooo, a free fly! That's a sign of good luck."

Sasha cringed.

To think that such a place was still in business. And the people of Wartwood liked this stuff? Now, she wasn't someone with a refined taste but she didn't need to, considering another fly literally just died in the same bowl.

"Um, excuse me, sir!"

At another table behind her, a familiar voice called out. Just as Stumpy delivered the meal, the customer looked through the slop and was disappointed. "There seems to be a mistake. My slop has two flies in it. I expected dozens! Is it really that hard to put food in a bowl?"

While the slender amphibian continued his rant, Sasha rolled her eyes. "Sheesh, who's that guy?"

"Oh, that? That's Albus Duckweed. He usually works as an announcer for town events but he's actually a food critic. He posts reviews on the weekly Valley Paper." Sprig answered.

Sasha nodded. "Ah, got it; the critical type. Yeah, I've met girls like him." She then looked over at him, watching. "Can't say I disagree with him though. The food here is just atrocious."

"You haven't even tasted it yet."

"I just saw two—" Bzzz-plop! "—three flies die in my bowl. I think I have a pretty good idea of what it's like. Besides, how hard could restaurant management be anyway?"

Hop Pop frowned. "Restaurant management is really hard! I once had a friend who had his own shop!"

"Really? What happened to him?"

"He died from food poisoning. It wasn't his own cooking but that's not the point!" He replied. "Every job has its difficulties. Being a restaurant manager meant dealing with logistics, economics, service and cleanliness."

Despite his explanations, Sasha rolled her eyes, unbothered. "Well, this place sucks at all of it. How is it even standing?" Looking back at her bowl of who-knows-what, Sasha stuck her tongue out in disgust. "You know, I bet I could improve on this."

Well, at the very least, she could try. While the slop looked atrocious, it didn't seem to be deadly if the frogs could eat it without dying. It was just so… sloppy, befitting its name. In her head, Sasha racked up a bunch of different ideas and combinations, trying to figure out how to at least make it palatable. None of them was of any use since she doesn't really have anything.

However, she noticed that Albus was still going on his rant and Stumpy was forced to listen. This meant that the kitchen was currently empty if Stumpy really was the sole employee.

That gave her an idea.

"Give me a moment..." Sasha said, standing up.

Did you know that in every state in the U.S., entering the kitchen as not an employee was actually illegal? Of course you do because that's common sense. It's a private business on private property; what did you expect?

The point being was that Sasha was currently breaking the law, not that she was a stranger to that. She might seem like the perfect student in school but outside, she very much did not vibe with the rules, not unless she got to use it to her advantage. In the English language, we called those people 'opportunists'.

In the kitchen, Sasha crept around, looking for whatever she could scrounge up. Unlike the rest of the restaurant, the kitchen was basically spotless, barring the bits of moss and mycelium growing on the walls. That's just an amphibian thing.

As she continued further, she finally found a shelf full of raw ingredients, mostly fruits and vegetables. She scanned through the items, searching specifically for the spices. By this point, raw ingredients wouldn't do much in a bowl of slop. She'd just have to make do with the dried stuff.

To her surprise, she found a basket filled with a handful of light-blue mushrooms adorning white skull patterns. She recalled seeing them in Hop Pop's dumb recipe book, something about it being part of the 'Dangerous Fruits and Vegetables' section.

Boomshroom, wasn't it?

Sasha picked one up to inspect. "Oh hey, it's those mushrooms Sprig talked about. I wonder why they're called that." She said with a smile, throwing it back into the basket. Immediately after, she found what she was looking for. "Ah, here are those spices!"

Unbeknownst to her, the blue mushroom began ticking.

Meanwhile in the dining area, Stumpy was still facing the full brunt of Albus' rant. For someone so thin and lanky, the newt sure has the lungs of a whale. Stumpy wasn't sure if he ever stopped to catch his breath.

"To top it off, a little bit of salt wouldn't be so bad! Is that so hard?!" Albus shrieked, finally respiring. Stumpy waited for more, only to get nothing.

"… Are you done, sir?" The cook asked.

"Oh yes, thank you. I would also like an order of lemon cricket pie to go, please."

Well, at least that's the end of that. With his usual apathetic demeanour, Stumpy strolled back to his kitchen, releasing a sigh of relief. Although he noticed the door swinging slightly, Stumpy paid no mind. It was proven just the wind.

Entering the kitchen, he went straight to grab a slice of lemon cricket pie, safely kept in the refrigerator. However, he noticed a bluish light blinking near his raw vegetables.

"What the...?" Stumpy voiced.

He walked closer to check.

Back at the Plantars, after purposefully scouring through the kitchen — keep in mind, this was illegal — Sasha finally found the spices she needed to make the slop at least edible to her. It was still gross-looking and she was still eating flies but at least it didn't twitch or melt through the table.

She grabbed a handful of them and mixed them into her bowl. After a little taste test, she shared the rest with the Plantars. So far, their reactions were positive.

"So, how is it?" Sasha asked.

"Huh, it actually does taste better." Sprig said, sipping another spoonful. Though, he still preferred the original.

That was when disaster struck.

BOOM!

Suddenly, an explosion occurred in the kitchen, shaking the entire restaurant for a brief moment. Bowls and plates jumped from the shock and Sasha, who had been standing, almost fell off her feet. Slowly, smoke billowed itself into the diner from the kitchen door and everyone rushed to see what had transpired.

Rushing into the kitchen, the diners were left in a state of shock. There, on the other side, one corner of the building's wall was completely obliterated, leaving nothing but ripped wood. The entire cooking area was in disarray as everything had fallen off the shelves and cabinets. But what's worst was Stumpy, having been flung back from being so close to ground zero.

Stumpy groaned, rubbing his head in pain. He looked relatively unhurt, albeit somewhat blackened from the soot.

Hop Pop quickly hopped towards the chef, helping him up. "Stumpy, are you okay?!"

Stumpy nodded. "Aye, I am but..." He looked around, the room in pure chaos. "My kitchen could've been better."

"What happened?" Sprig asked, standing beside him.

"One of the boomshrooms... It was set. It must've been overripe, ugh..."

Stumpy stood back up and instantly went to check the damages. A missing wall, several ingredients ruined and of course, the most obvious, there was a crater at the corner of the restaurant. The repairs wouldn't cost him much but still...

Stumpy sighed. "Guess I'll have to close the diner for a while to get this fixed. Sorry about that, folks."

Now, while Stumpy had a very good reason to be upset, Sasha did not. Though, the definition of 'upset' was always vague.

After hearing about boomshrooms, Sasha immediately knew that this was her fault. How was she supposed to know that boomshrooms literally went boom? Yes, it was in the name but that didn't prove anything. There's a fruit called 'custard apple' and she was pretty sure it was neither custard nor an apple.

Sasha knew, deep down, that the responsible thing to do was to just admit her mistakes and make it up. That was the right way to go.

Unfortunately, the last time she did that, she got a bunch of angry farmers and townies throwing rocks and spoiled fruits at her. She learnt her lesson; never admit to anything unless it made things better.

"Why should you?" Sasha barked, stepping forward.

Stumpy turned to her, surprised. "The Plantar monster?" He choked out.

"So the kitchen's a bit busted. So what? You'll just have to rebuild, that's all. And if you think that's too much, maybe it's time to get some extra hands on deck." She stated. "If you can't pay, get a volunteer."

Sasha then coughed in her fist, her cheeks turning pink. "L-like me." She muttered quietly.

Stumpy blinked. Did he hear that right?

"Wait, are you saying you want to help?"

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Look, don't think too much about it, okay?! Do you want my help or not?"

If Marcy was here, she would have shrieked. Never once did she imagined her friend becoming a tsundere.

For a restaurant as big as Stumpy's, it's a surprise to think that only one frog was handling everything. Being a cook was already a full-time job but to think he was also the server, cashier, manager and cleaner? Now that's an achievement.

With the extra hands, Stumpy can focus on just cooking, management and repairs; thus staying in the kitchen. That left Sasha — the new employee of Stumpy's — to work on the customer side.

Anne made it look too easy.

"Two servings of lemon cricket pie at table 6!"

"Gotcha!"

"6 slops at table 2."

"O-on it!"

Wearing an apron over her school uniform, Sasha was figuratively thrown into the sharks as she juggled from order to order, trying her best to keep track of everything. Not everything on one table was done simultaneously and so, she'd have to visit the same table several times to deliver different parts of their order. At the same time, she has to attend to each customer, making sure they're comfortable and their specific orders met. Once all that was done, they'd pay by the table and she'd wipe it clean.

Unfortunately, Stumpy did not have a calculator and math was not Sasha's best subject.

"Alright, so—" Sasha started, pulling out a pen and notepad. In front of her were a family of 5, including a polliwog in a baby chair. "—6 bowls of slops, 3 slices of purple egg toast, a jug of swamp juice, 2 plates of choco-roach cake and finally, 1 serving of bug bites for the baby."

"But I ordered yellow egg toast..." One of them complained.

Sasha glared. "You get purple."

"Aww..."

At the same time at the back, Stumpy was checking on the deliveries. Including his usual biweekly inventory, he added in several stacks of wooden planks, a bag of nails and a few other materials for renovations.

Looking at the checklist, he grunted. Everything seemed to be in order.

"Thanks for the help with the deliveries. I know you're usually busy and all but I appreciate it." Stumpy exclaimed.

In front of him, a small country-looking frog with a straw hat nodded. "I like tulips."

Now that all was set, it was time to begin. While he may not be an expert in construction, he did know a thing or two about fixing a wall. He's fixed his fair share of walls at worse conditions.

"YAAAAH!" A scream emanated from inside.

"SORRY!" Sasha shouted in response.

Stumpy didn't bother to sigh.

And as quickly as it began, the day went by in a blink of an eye. Stumpy's opened its doors early in the morning and closed an hour before midnight. With such a long shift, one would have to be extremely hardy to last a day there. Fortunately, Sasha just so happened to have to strength to pass, even if barely.

As closing time came near, Sasha was out in the back, taking a well-deserved break. The morning and evening rush took a lot out of her. To think that Stumpy managed all of this on his own...

Behind her, Stumpy walked out of the door and with him, a glass of lemonade. "Here." He said, handing the drink to her. "It's important to keep hydrated while on the job."

Greedily, Sasha snatched it out of his hand and gulped it down. Coughing for air, she handed the empty glass back. "Thanks." She replied, breathing a relaxed sigh. "Sheesh, what a busy day."

Stumpy raised a brow. "Busy? Oh no, that was just average. It'll be way worse tomorrow."

"No..."

He nodded. "Afraid so. But if it makes you feel any better, you did a pretty good job on your first day. Keep up the good work."

"Thanks, Stumpy."

The two sat silently on the back porch, watching as the fireflies buzzed and the stars twinkled. The red moon shined its crimson light over the land, a colour Sasha was still not used to, even after all this time.

On a whim, Sasha broke the silence. "Say, is Stumpy really your real name, or did you get called that because of the hands?"

The hefty frog chuckled. "My full name is Stumpford actually. Folks call me Stumpy. As for the hands..." He lifted one, showing it in full detail. "Lost them back when I was part of the Newtopian military."

Sasha's brow raised. "Wait, you were part of the army?"

"It's a long story. I was drafted as a ship cook back during the Eddy War on the west coast. I mostly spent time in the galley but I did see my share of fights." He disclosed. "One day, we got hit by a bad storm and I was thrown overboard. Lost my hands trying to survive, so I fashioned myself a few attachments."

"Woah... what happened next?"

"Eh, I went back to Newtopia, got a military discharge and used the funds to build my diner." He looked at his diner, its reconstruction still in progress. "It got hit a lot over the years but it's still standing strong."

As if on cue, a bit of the old walls broke apart, crumbling down in front of them.

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Yeah, barely standing."

"I admit; it might've gone to disrepair over the years but I don't see any reason to change. It works just the way it is."

It was left unsaid how the diner barely worked. In fact, it's literally being held up by Stumpy alone. Had anyone else took over, it would've disintegrated into dust upon first contact. Stumpy was essentially the load-bearing frog.

Sasha frowned. That won't do.

"Say, you got any construction material left over?" Sasha asked. In response, the frog glanced at the numerous yet-to-be-used material. As a precaution, he ordered a bit extra in case anything happened.

Without another word, Sasha grabbed a hammer, a few nails and several planks, and went to work. Climbing up the roof, she began fixing the leaks, as shoddy as it was. Once that was finished, she focused on the supports, hammering in plank after plank.

Stumpy, flabbergasted, did nothing to stop her. "You didn't have to do that, Sasha."

"You're right; I didn't." She replied. Looking at the sad diner as a whole, Sasha sighed. She still had a long way to go. "I wanted to."

It's been 4 days since Sasha began working there and so far, she's been getting pretty good at it. When she first started, various townies came by to see the elusive Plantar monster and that attracted a lot of people. Only the citizens of Wartwood knew what she looked like and her poster wasn't exactly professional.

But now, when the hype died down, she started to have a bit more breathing room. Though, she was still very much busy, especially during rush hours.

Stumpy smiled. "Good work, Sasha! In a few more days, the repairs should be done. By the way—"

Looking around, the old broken down Stumpy's was no more. After several hours of labour on top of her usual shift, Sasha and Stumpy had transformed the decrepit diner into a respected establishment of culinary arts. The walls, floors and ceiling were fixed and smoothened, and any chips and cracks were filled. Tables and chairs, once untouched, were repainted with a dash of red and white, and several pieces of greenery were added to give the place some life. In terms of decor, framed newspaper clippings were hung, all of which, in one way or another, had the diner's name.

All in all, with remodelling done at almost zero cost, Stumpy's resembled that of a classic American diner.

"I love what you've done to the place." The owner and chef praised.

Sasha smiled smugly. "A little paint works wonders."

It actually took more than just paint. Thankfully, she had connections to a certain Loggle who happened to own a woodwork shop. So she borrowed some material — legitimately, this time — and fixed up the place in her free time, both inside and out.

She even dealt with the trash problem. That is, she punched the trash lizard and forced it to do its job. So far, it worked.

All of the sudden, Stumpy's stomach grumbled angrily and he bent forward, feeling uncomfortable. "Ugh...! If you excuse me, nature calls! I'll be right back!"

"O-oh, sure. No problems, man."

Leaving with just a warning, Sasha was left alone by the counter, waiting for a customer to call her. And what a customer it was, sitting in a nearby booth. Seeing him wave his arm, Sasha quickly paced her way to him.

"Uh, hello? Hello?! Where is Stumpy?" The customer, the infamous newt Albus Duckweed, asked harshly.

"Stumpy? Oh, he's a bit... preoccupied. What can I get you?" Sasha asked in return.

"What can you get me? I already ordered! I've been waiting for my millipede stew for 20 minutes!"

Oof, she must've forgotten about that. "Right, sorry about that! I'll go check in the back!"

Hastily, Sasha ran to the kitchen, searching for the millipede stew Stumpy had prepared earlier. When it came to soups and stews, he'd often make a lot of them at once and just scooped out a bowl whenever someone ordered. Hopefully, there should still be some left.

"Stumpy? You in here? Taking your time, huh? No worries, I totally get you." Sasha called out, only to get no reply.

Looking around, she found a lonely pot on the stove, slightly opened. She checked under the lid and luckily, it seemed to look like the stew if the spiky millipede legs were had anything to say about it.

"This must be the millipede stew." She took a quick whiff, only to voice disgust. "Blegh, it definitely smells like it."

Seriously, people liked this? No offence to Stumpy but if the army food stereotype was true, then the frog definitely lived up to it. He could definitely do better. Heck, he deserved to do better.

Sasha glanced at the spice rack nearby and the gears in her head began to turn.

Quickly checking her surroundings for any wayward viewers, she shifted towards the flavourings. "What he doesn't know, doesn't hurt anyone." She whispered to herself.

Grabbing a selected few, she mixed in the spices into the stew bit by bit. While Sasha couldn't call herself a master chef, she did understand the basics of spices due to the worryingly large amount of alone time she had back home.

With every addition, she tasted the stew, figuring out what she should add next. Following each pinch or handful, she got closer and closer to the taste she wanted. And after several taste tests, she finally got it.

"Perfect." She muttered. She then filled up a bowl and immediately served it to Albus, who was losing more and more of his patience by the minute. "Sorry for the delay. Here you go; 1 serving of millipede stew."

Albus gave out an exasperated dramatic sigh of relief. "Finally! You're lucky that I don't think this place even deserves my critique."

That was Albus' main job after all. He'd go around, restaurant after restaurant, writing criticism of the place. He spared no pity; food, service, even the general design would be a target. He owed it to his refined taste in both his tongue and his mind.

As Sasha left to stand by the counter, Albus took his first spoonful, unaware that it had been slightly altered. He sipped a few drops worth and instantly, his eyes widened.

"Plantar monster!" He screamed. The teenager hadn't even reached the counter yet. Taking a deep breath, she turned back around.

"It's Sasha the human."

"Sasha the hummus! I just want to say that this millipede stew is..." He dramatically paused, causing her mind to race.

Did he notice the change? Was it bad? She never did take account of the different biology. What if they had drastically different tastebuds than hers? Dammit, this would the part where having Marcy would've helped!

"FANTASTIC!"

"W-what?" She replied, shocked out of her stupor.

Albus took another sip with a satisfied smack of his lips. "The flavour profile is so strong yet balanced, and it's got just the right amount of salt. And despite how rich it is, it's so smooth and easy to swallow. Stumpy really upped the quality!" Slurping his bowl clean, Albus stood up and ran off, leaving money to cover his bill, plus a bit extra. "I'm going to go write a review this instant! The world must know!"

Sasha blinked. So he... liked it?

Nearby, Mrs Croaker saw the positive commotion and became curious. Everyone knew how infamous Albus's unique sense of taste was. If he ran out shouting 'Eureka!', then it's definitely for a good reason. "Sasha, dearie, I would like an order of millipede stew as well."

"Make it 2!" Another frog from a different table shouted.

Gradually, the diner turned to an uproar as more orders of the stew appeared. Whatever thoughts she had was completely removed, pushed away by the ever-increasing demand.

She had no time to think. Now was the time to act.

"Oh, alright!" She shouted. "I'll be back in a sec!"

When Stumpy returned, he was met with cheers and validation. For some odd reason, everyone had praised him for his stew tasting more delicious than ever, even though he used the same recipe as always. And although they asked for more, he claimed that he ran out of ingredients and so, couldn't make any more. It was disappointing but at least they understood.

"To think we sold out on millipede stew… People must be really hungry today!" He exclaimed. "You can go on ahead, Sasha. I'll finish up cleaning from here."

Sasha nodded, hanging up her apron. "Gotcha. See you tomorrow, Stumpy."

Now on his own, Stumpy stared at his empty pot, one that was completely cleaned out. "I wonder why the stew sold so well today…"

Noticing a small morsel by the edge, Stumpy slid it onto his hook hand and had a taste.

His mind blew to pieces, metaphorically. This stew was completely different from the one he cooked. He'd know; he tasted it! Someone altered his dish! And considering the people authorized to enter here, he's got a good feeling who…

The very next day, Sasha arrived at the diner early in the morning. Realising she wasn't alone, she greeted the only other person there. "Hey, Stumpy."

"Mornin', Sasha." He greeted back. In front of him on the stove was a pot filled with his usual, bubbling unnaturally. "I just finished making today's batch of slop. Can you watch the stove for a bit while I do some business?"

Sasha shrugged. "Sure."

While Stumpy went away to do his business — whatever that may be — Sasha watched over the pot as its contents slowly simmered. She wasn't sure how long Stumpy had been cooking this but considering the medium heat and how it rattled somewhat violently, it must've been a while. Out of curiosity, Sasha took off the lid and had a smell.

She immediately regretted it.

"Gggghhh…! Still as horrible as ever. And apparently the bestseller for some reason." Sasha remarked. Although, the temptation to improve it pulled her once more. Unlike yesterday, she pretty much accepted it this time. "What this thing needs is a little bit of…"

After several minutes, Sasha finished up her little modifications and clapped her hands clean. This time, she added other things too like mushrooms, potatoes and a few berries for that nice tangy sweetness. Performing a taste test, Sasha felt unsatisfied, finding it just not good enough. "Maybe a little bit more salt..."

Behind her back, a set of beady eyes watched from the shadows as she continued to alter the pot of slop. The changes made were odd but not unheard of; the combinations were appealing and from the smell alone, he could tell it was substantially different from the original.

Not wanting to wait any further, the figure walked out of the shadows, revealing himself to be none other than Stumpy. There was no 'business' — just him observing the teen in secret.

As Sasha slurped a bit of the slop, finally content, the frog tapped her on the shoulder, much to her surprise. "GAH! Stumpy?! You scared the heck out of me!"

"Hmm…" He hummed. Using his own spoon — which happened to be one of his many stump attachments — Stumpy had a taste.

Completely different from his slop but the patterns were the same. His suspicions were confirmed at the spot.

"I knew it! You're the one that spiced up my millipede stew!" He said at the girl.

Her act busted, Sasha panicked a little. She needed to deescalate this fast. "O-okay, I know what you're thinking and yes, I did do it without your permission but to be fair, the stew sucked."

That could've been worded better.

Stumpy shrugged. "Can't argue with that. Still, I'm not mad or anything. This is delicious! Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

Oh, he was okay with it. That was good. "I used to cook a lot at home. No big deal." She answered honestly.

Stumpy looked around his kitchen where most of today's prepared dishes were not yet done. Sensing an opportunity, this gave him an idea. "You think you can do the same with the others?" He asked.

Although it was a simple innocent question, Sasha felt a bit nervous to answer. Her reasons were personal and she wasn't willing to share. Rubbing her own arm, she looked left and right, unsure whether to lie or to tell the truth. In the end, she opted for a vague answer.

"Ehh… m-maybe?" She replied. It was, however, not a 'no'.

Under Stumpy's request, Sasha began modifying his dishes one by one. The actual cook of the diner observed her actions, taking note of her words. There was definitely a science behind food preparation — something the teenage human girl had a good grasp of. Keeping track of acidity, fat content, the common and uncommon blend of spices; these were all important in creating a quality dish.

Sasha had a well of knowledge, ready to burst out. In the kitchen, her skills may not be as good as Anne's but in terms of information, she had the Thai girl beat.

After several hours of intensive cooking lessons, all that was left was the millipede stew. From a bottle, Sasha specked some dark liquid into the pot. "So you then add a splash of balsamic vinegar at the end. It really wakes up the flavours and helps it shine."

Stumpy nodded, scribbling it down in a notepad. "Got it! Thanks for the recipes. I've never felt this excited in years!"

"No problem, dude. Just don't tell anyone I made it." She replied, huffing annoyedly.

Stumpy raised a brow. "Why not? You could even open a restaurant someday. Your skills could use some practice but you definitely have potential."

Her and her own restaurant. Sasha pulled her head back for a laugh. "Ha! No thanks. I don't like cooking."

"WHAAAAAAAT?!" Stumpy screamed in shock. "But you're a great cook! How could you of all people not like cooking?!"

"It's just cooking, okay? Anyone can do it."

"I get that but a good cook isn't easy to come by." Stumpy claimed. "You sure you don't want to? It'd be fun."

Sasha, getting increasingly irritated, frowned. Fun?

"Look, sometimes, people have skills in things they aren't okay with, alright?! You don't know me, so just get off my back!" She yelled in anger, her eyes flashing pink.

Taken by surprise, Stumpy stepped back and fell onto his bottom. For a brief moment, Sasha could see the fear in his eyes, all aimed at her. She gasped before clenching her fist and stomping out of the kitchen.

The frog watched with concern, unsure as to what happened. However, he had a feeling he ticked off a part of her that he shouldn't. Before he could continue, the front doorbell rang and the morning rush began. Hungry customers walked in and took their seats, excited for a delicious warm meal to start their day.

He'd just have to try later.

And as the spiders cock-a-doodle-doo'd, the sun finally set and the darkness began its march. At the back of the restaurant, Sasha sat by the porch as she always did, a cold and refreshing drink in her hand. At the beginning of the day, although brief, a lot of emotions and turmoil were thrown around, souring her mood for her whole shift. And if there's one thing no one was ready for, it'd be a moody Sasha.

Just then from behind, Stumpy walked by and sat beside her. No words or gestures mustered between them. The only company other than the two was the chirping night.

After what felt like forever, Stumpy went first. "Sasha, I... I want to apologize for what I said. I'm still not sure what happened but I'm feeling that it's a bit personal. You don't want to be a chef and whatever reason that is, I understand."

"Hah…" Sasha sighed sadly. "It's fine. Sorry I got mad. You didn't deserve that."

The moon looked beautiful tonight.

So far during her time in this other world, rarely did she show her inner side; the fragile and soft part of her. Even with the Plantars, there were only a handful of times where she revealed those moments of weakness. After all, she's Sasha Waybright! This bad girl never showed weakness!

But it wasn't Stumpy's fault. He didn't know.

"... When I was a kid, my mom and dad would always let me help in the kitchen. I didn't do much but those were some of my best memories I have growing up. But then, the time we spent together got less and less and suddenly, I did more and more. And now, every morning, I'd make my own meals and catch the bus. Every night, I eat dinner on my own."

"Cooking's… never been fun for me…"

It was funny how for her entire stay, Sasha had always been so worried about her friends that she never put a thought regarding her parents. They weren't bad people in the slightest — just very busy — and she knew that; she just wished they were around more. She loved them a lot but at times, it made her wonder whether they loved her back.

As her eyes became blurry and wet, Sasha wiped away the tears. "S-sorry. It's pretty stupid."

"It's not stupid."

Sasha turned to the frog who, as he spoke, continued to stare at the night sky. "Those feelings you have? It's real and there's no shame in admitting it. I never realised how truly personal the art is to you and now, I realised how impersonal it is to me."

Stumpy closed his eyes and after a while, turned and faced her. "Over the years, I've lost a lot of passion in my cooking and it showed. But seeing you and how you improved my restaurant — even though you never had to — it really reignited that flame. Thank you."

Sasha never liked cooking but that didn't mean she couldn't. Of all the times she tried, it was never for herself emotionally. She made food for sustenance but made sure others enjoyed it the most. She didn't despise the skill; she just could never enjoy it. A selfish act painted as selfless.

"Once the repairs are done, I'll keep a spot open if you ever wanted to work here again." Stumpy exclaimed.

Sasha, though, only smiled, declining with a wave. "Nah. I think I'm done with the culinary business. It's not as easy as it looks."

Besides, Anne was already the cook anyway. There's no need for two.

A couple of days later, Sasha finally repaid her secret debt. All it took was a full week of unpaid volunteer work. It's impressive how Stumpy was able to repair the hole in the diner in just a week but he did say that he fixed worse before, so who was she to judge?

After her final day, Sasha left the apron behind and bid farewell to the frog. He wasn't her boss anymore and she wasn't his employee. Next time they'd meet, it'd be as a customer.

Back at home, Sasha slid the plates towards the Plantars family. "3 servings of omurice, done to perfection!"

"Hoho, yeah!" "Nice!" "Still jiggly." The three Plantars said simultaneously, jumbling up their words.

Without further ado, they grabbed their spoons and scooped up from their respective plates, shoving them into their mouths immediately after. If this was a cartoon, there'd be stars in their eyes.

"Mmm! This is even better than last time. I can taste the boomshrooms." Sprig noted.

In response, Sasha nodded. "Yeah, Stumpy taught me how to cook with them. You didn't tell me they were actually explosive."

"Sorry, forgot you weren't from here." Sprig apologized light-heartedly.

With that said and done, Sasha grabbed a bowl and poured herself some cereal. It was breakfast after all and despite not having any artificial sweeteners, the cereal was surprisingly sweet.

"So, any plans on working there again? You'd have a pretty decent pay, now that more people are coming to eat at his diner." Hop Pop asked. With more people from out of town coming to eat at Stumpy's Diner, that meant profits were soaring.

And yet, Sasha shook her head. "Pass. I'm just not cut out for it. Besides," Sasha paused, taking a bite of her cereal. "I prefer cooking for you guys anyway."

For the people she cared about. Though, that was left unsaid.