Flexible Thinking for a Modern Life: Chapter 18

Summary: A commission series for Alfalfa. Iris Fleurs, the stretchy daughter of a slime mother and a human father, tries to live her best life and feel comfortable in her own skin. Teenage rebellion ensues.

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CHAPTER 18

Iris was finally getting a real taste of freedom. Leaving the hideout behind—along with whatever Kamika was up to—Iris could finally get back to doing what she wanted to do. She could really cut loose, do whatever she wanted, with no supervision. 

...And yet, she didn't feel particularly liberated, or empowered. Actually, she felt like she was running out of options. She couldn't think of showing her face at home, and she had a hunch her father was out looking for her. Not that she particularly wanted to go home. At the same time, she wasn't getting a great vibe from the hideout she just left. Of course, the fact that it was crawling with demons wasn't lost on her...

She wasn't sure where she wanted to be, or where she could go. She couldn't even get an in with her usual friends. So she ended up just... wandering listlessly through the streets. It would be nice if she had something to do...

Not to mention, she didn't have any money to do things. The perennial problem of youth was that you had all the time in the world, but no money to spend on time-wasters. An ATM cropped up in the corner of her eye. She wondered how easy it would be to slip her hand through a narrow slit, reach into the chamber where they kept the money, and pull it out licketysplit. 

...She wasn't actually going to rob an ATM. But she knew she could. And the idea itself was terribly alluring. She hurried her pace to walk past it. Better to get out of the seedy part of town first.

As she wandered the streets, back into the cleaner, commercial district, the hustle and bustle of downtown Agnes made itself apparent. Work was letting out for most of the population, and everyone was enjoying their free time. Of course, this was the time for local eateries to pedal their menus, and Iris found her eyes wandering from corner to corner.

"Awww maaan..." Iris muttered, dejectedly kicking a pebble down the street. The wafting aromas of grilled meats circled around her like a siren's call. She could go for something savory. Maybe if she stretched her arm in a cheeky way a proprietor wouldn't notice... 

...Actually, there was a sweet aroma in the air as well. She stopped, glancing to her left. She found herself in front of a window, with the words "Bread! Cakes! Pastries!" in big, inviting letters. She cocked her head, seeing the wide array of products just inside. She stared longingly, but knew in her heart that it was not to be. She stared through the window hungrily...

"...Eh? Who's that at the cash..." Iris squinted to get a better look. She thought she recognized a certain someone. Someone she had a recent encounter with...

"Debbie!?"

Iris blurted suddenly, pressing her face against the window to make sure she wasn't mistaken. Sure enough, she recognized Debbie just behind the counter, darting back and forth with a tray of muffins. She looked distraught, like she wasn't sure what to do with them. Iris quietly watched her perform her work...

...It was only when Debbie inadvertently looked back in her direction that Iris realized she was staring. Staring at Debbie. And further still, Debbie knew Iris was staring right back at her. A silent staredown occurred between the two of them...

...Debbie waved anxiously with a polite smile. Iris waved back. This was the most awkward thing in the world.

Iris peeled herself from the window and made for the front door. It opened with a gentle clattering of a small bell, just above the door frame. 

"Heyyy, Debbie. D-Didn't expect to see you here." Iris explained sheepishly.

"Eh? But, but I always work here after school. It's our family business..." Debbie's hand rose as if to scratch her head, but she remembered she had gloves on—for sanitation reasons, obviously. Lowering her hand, she turned quickly to Iris, with a stiff bow. 

"Welcome to Cinnaventa! D-Do you see anything you like??" Debbie tilted her head inquisitively. 

"Oh no, you don't gotta go through the whole spiel for me. Actually, I'm short on cash anyway, so... I couldn't afford anything even if I wanted to." Iris admitted with a frown.

"Ohhh. Well, um, window-shopping is okay, Okidoke, even, aah..." Debbie's professional demeanour dissipated rather quickly, her head turning back to the tray of muffins she was handling earlier. Her pink apron was dusty with flour...

"Do try a free sample, at least!" Debbie enthusiastically spun around, offering one of the freshly baked muffins. They were blueberry...

"Really? I mean... samples are just for folk who have the money to buy more, and... I don't really wanna put you out either." Iris fussed. It was an enormous muffin, far larger than a free sample would merit. 

"I-It's fine, really! One muffin isn't gonna bankrupt us, eheh..." Debbie clarified with a chuckle.

"...N-No, there are... other things that would do that instead. Like a rat infestation. Or a Sanddollars opening across the street. Total rejection and humiliation..." She then cleared her throat after, Debbie's train of thought fixating on all the terrible things that could befall their institution. 

"O-Okay, I get it! You drive a hard bargain..." Iris smiled wryly, taking the muffin in her hand. She took a big bite out of the top...

"...Mrgh." Iris made a gurgling sound as she chewed, her eyebrows furrowing. She chewed, and chewed... and kept chewing. With some difficulty, she finally swallowed.

"Um..." Debbie watched with a degree of trepidation, perhaps waiting a little too long to get a word in. She raised a gloved finger. "D-Did you like it?"

"Mm..." Iris in turn took a touch too long to respond herself, her eyes drifting between Debbie and the bite she took out of the muffin. She smiled weakly. "I-It's... saltier than I expected, um..."

"Salty??" Debbie tilted her head, a look of confusion crossing her face. This confusion was quickly followed by a sudden realization, her face going pale. "O-Oh no! I used salt instead of sugar! Mom and Dad are gonna kill me..."

"I-It's not all bad!" Iris tried to reassure her, waving the muffin around. Of course, she had to think of something. "The, the tartness of the blueberry balances the... savory flavour??" Iris raised the muffin and tried to muster the courage to take another bite, but recoiled before doing so. 

"Muffins aren't supposed to be savory!" Debbie blurted, her eyes looking at the tray of sullied muffins she now had to deal with. "Ohhh, I can't serve these to anyone! And I had to have everything ready in an hour..."

Iris didn't want to be the bearer of bad news for Debbie, but now she appeared to be the sole witness to Debbie's innocent kerfuffle. She looked around the bakery—it appeared that there wasn't anyone else around. Maybe business was slow at this time of day...

"Hey, Debbie, you said this was your family business, right? Are your folks around to give you a hand?" Iris asked. 

"They're out making a delivery, and they trusted me to stay on top of things while they were gone! If they come back to find these muffins, I'll, I'll never hear the end of it!" Debbie exclaimed, on the verge of hysterics. It was a far cry from her usual meek manner at school. Now Iris really felt guilty for hanging around here. She felt like this was her fault, somehow. Or maybe she just empathized with Debbie. 

"Uh... well..." Iris stirred slightly, and then raised her hand. "You need any help with the next batch? I got nothing better to do."

"...Eh? Debbie paused, giving Iris the strangest look. "Have you... worked in a kitchen before?"

"Weeell... noooot exactly..." Iris prodded her fingers together. "I mean, I baked in my own kitchen every now and then, but... an industrial kitchen is prooobably a bit higher scale than that." 

"...Mmnn... well, Mom and Dad did leave me in charge..." Debbie cooed, lowering her head to give the idea due consideration. Her eyes drifted back to the tray of muffins. "Maybe you could throw those out into the dumpster? I need to get a headstart on the next batch and-"

"Say no more. I gotcha." 

Debbie yelped as a pair of stretched out arms snaked from across the counter, passing in front of her and grabbing the tray. It clattered and zipped along, over to where Iris was standing. She cheekily raised the tray with a grin.

"Hehe! Cool huh?" Iris winked.

"I-Iris! You can't do that in here!" Debbie stammered, shaking her head furiously.

"Oh come on, it's just the two of us. Just letting loose a bit before we get started." Iris looked the slightest bit dejected; her head lowered, the tray tilting in turn. "I just... I figured you'd be cool with it."

"I-It's not that! I'm cool with, with the superpower thing, b-but... but you still need to be wearing gloves!" 

"...Eh?" Iris blinked, raising her head. Debbie was quick to flourish her hands in front of her, accentuating the disposable gloves she was wearing. 

"...Ohhh. Right, because it's... it's a kitchen." Iris' mouth flattened, and her eyes lowered. The corner of her mouth twitched bashfully.

"Yeah. You dingus." Debbie chimed in, a little tauntingly. "I guess you really haven't been in a kitchen... well, you can help with simple stuff, okay? An extra pair of hands will be a big help."

"Yeah, sure! You got my foot in the door with the free muffin, so it's the least I can do." Iris turned for the door. She stopped at the door, turning to Debbie. "You got a spare apron, right?"

"Of course! Hurry back, okay?" Debbie called over, before quickly pacing towards the back of the bakery to get things ready.

Of course, it wouldn't be too long until Iris would return with an empty tray. "You want me to wash this real quick? I can wash dishes just fine." Iris offered, flourishing the tray. 

"Ah... I think that can wait until we get the muffins in the oven." Debbie commented, looking Iris over. Turning around, she reached for an apron hanging on a nearby coatrack, and flourished it with a bright smile for Iris. "Alright, throw this on. Gotta look like you fit in if a customer comes in."

"Pfft, what? I mean, yeah, I will, but I'm totally incognito about this sort of thing." Iris bragged, slipping on the apron. It was a faint pink, dusted with various powders. She examined it briefly; her inquisitive eyes caught a box of disposable gloves. She plucked a pair out for herself, as Debbie would've wanted.

"Alright, you're the boss. What'll it be?" Iris turned to Debbie. She had to stifle a salute, remembering that she was wearing sterilized gloves...

"Well, we got two big bowls to worry about first. How about you sift the dry stuff together, and I'll use the whisk to get the mix started?" Debbie suggested in a tone that felt more like a gentle invitation, rather than an instruction of authority. 

"Sure thing! I can do that!" Iris nodded enthusiastically. She turned around, taking in the full spread of the ingredients available. There were so many sacs, big and small, all along the table, under the table. She wasn't sure where to start.

"You know what goes in a muffin, right?" Debbie asked gently.

"Yeah! Obviously!" Iris scoffed, taking a moment to see if she could puzzle it out. "...This just isn't the setup I'm used to, is all..."

"Of course." Debbie smiled. "It's baking soda, baking powder, flour, and a bit of salt. Everything ought to be labelled..."

"Just a pinch, huh?" Iris wondered. "I dunno, you might've been onto something with the sweet and salty muffin..."

"Ughhh, don't remind me..." Debbie whined helplessly. This got a chuckle out of Iris.

"Alright, alright, I hear ya, loud and clear." Iris nodded, getting the ingredients sorted out. 

"And try to be really precise with the measurements, okay?" Debbie cautioned Iris. 

"Yeah yeah. Cooking's an art, but baking's a chemistry lesson." Iris nodded. She wasn't about to halfass this and put Debbie in an even deeper hole.

Left to her own devices, Iris did a fine job with portioning the powdery ingredients. Sifting everything together didn't pose too much of a challenge. Iris clapped her hands together, brushing off some of the flour from her hands.

"Alright! How's the mix coming?" Iris turned around, eager to take on the next task.

"Mrgr... we'd be ready to go if I could get the dang mixer going." Debbie grunted. She was hunched over an enormous mixer, with a bowl that could fit gallons and gallons of muffin batter. The beaters looked industrial sized to be sure; each one must've been the size of Debbie's arm. 

"Eh? Is it jammed or something?" Iris wondered aloud, leaning in to get a closer look.

"It's just a finicky piece of junk, but Dad's too stingy to get an upgrade." Debbie pouted. "Darn thing's always slow to start... but it usually doesn't give me this much trouble."

Debbie jabbed at a button with impudent annoyance, a terse grunt following soon after. 

"It sounds like you two have some workplace history..." Iris pondered. She took a step forward, placing a hand on the top of the machine. "Mind if I take a look?"

Debbie paused, glancing to Iris: her concertern expression mellowed into one of cautious concern. Her eyes drifted to the machine.

"I dunno... it can be dangerous without training." Debbie warned. "And if you get into a workplace injury, I'm gonna be held accountable for it..."

"Ah, don't sweat it, Debbie. I'm practically a genius with electronics!" Iris boasted, squinting to get a better look at the machine. "Probably some rotary malfunction, or something like that."

"I-If you really wanna look at it, well... be careful." Debbie asked carefully. "I guess I'll crack the eggs in the meantime."

"How many eggs does this need?" Iris asked.

"Two." 

"Just two?" Iris cocked her head up quizzically.

"Two dozen. Sorry, there... there's gonna be a lot of muffins." Debbie clarified, nodding her head. 

"Ohhh. I mean, yeah, duh." Iris smirked. "I guess that was a pretty dumb question..." 

The two girls went about their work in quiet, but shared diligence. The process of cracking each egg by hand, one after the other, was rather tedious, but Debbie settled into a sort of zen about it. She seemed to have a practiced confidence about it. This was in comparison to Iris, who seemed to struggle with the electric mixer just as much as Debbie was a second ago. 

"Tch. This thing's moody, innit..." Iris muttered, turning one of the whisks slowly. There was definitely some kind of resistance. "It's not jammed or anything, is it?"

"I'd like to think we're pretty thorough about cleaning the equipment. I'm really not sure..." Debbie frowned. "Maybe we should call an electrician or something."

"I think the thing just needs a jumpstart, or something like that." Iris wrestled with the whisking mechanism. "It's definitely stuck on something. Maybe if I jerk it enough..."

"'Jerk it'?" Debbie glanced over. "Y-You really don't need to force it, it might break. Or worse-"

"It's just caught on something, is all." Iris reassured Debbie, gritting her teeth. "Just gotta give it a good twist, I think, and..."

VRRR!

"Whoa!" Iris blurted. All of a sudden, the mixer spurred to life, the quiet kitchen area suddenly rocked with a raucous noise. It was enough to break Debbie's egg-cracking concentration; a yolk slopped unceremoniously onto the counter. 

"Iris!? ...O-Oh my goddess, IRIS!"

"Uh... I think I got the machine working." Iris muttered, a little quizzically. 

"But... but your arm, it's... it's..."

"A little tied up here, eeyup."

In the short time that the whiskers went off, Iris' arm had been stretched all around the narrow metal whisks. It had twisted, contorted, and reduced to a consistency not unlike taffy. The glove that Iris was wearing was all torn up, scattered to the sides of the large mixing bowl. 

Curious of all, Iris didn't seem perturbed by this; she simply stared at the mess made with a grimace of mild annoyance, and a hint of bashfulness.

"...Iris?" Debbie was picking up on Iris' lowkey vibes, and was catching her breath. "Does that... hurt??"

"This? Nah, I'm good. I'm just glad the machine's cooperating now." Iris nodded. "Hey, can you give me a hand here, though? Might take some finagling to pull my arm back out..."

"Y-You really cut the power before finagling it like that!" Debbie blurted, hurrying over to unplug the machine.

"W-Wait, don't- ...shoot." Iris groaned. "It was all warmed up too..."

"The bowl and the whisks have to be washed and sterilized anyway. Can't have Iris goop getting in the batter..." Debbie sighed, fussing over the mixer. Her hands hovered over the bowl; her eyes followed how Iris' elongated arm stretched and looped around the whisks.

"...Sheesh. I'm just glad you're okay." Debbie sighed, a wry smile coming across her face.

"What, this? You already know what I can do. I'm practically indestructable, I wasn't about to let a dumb machine get the best of me..." Iris muttered, her eyes drifting aside. 

"Even so, it seems to have a bit of a hold on you. I'll help you out..." Debbie reassured Iris as she detached the whisks from the machine. "Ooh, your arm really got tied up in here, didn't it?"

Iris blushed slightly as Debbie felt along the length of her deformed skin, her fingers dancing along the surface. Her hands were warm. They were rougher than Iris expected, but Debbie's touch was exceedingly gentle, careful and deliberate. 

"Can you still move your arm?" Debbie wondered, trying to untwist Iris' pliant fingers.

"A bit. I'm... trying to pull myself back together." Iris explained, a bit of a sardonic grin accompanying it. Debbie had a very disarming way of regarding Iris' special condition: it didn't feel like Debbie was judging her. It was just another curiosity.

Debbie quietly worked to unwrap Iris' arms from the whisks. Hardly a word was spoken between them as Debbie gave Iris a hand. The strange gesture was somewhat intimate, and the tensity that tugged at Iris' arm was incredibly distracting. A mixture of weird emotions washed over Iris... she wondered if she was being ridiculous, or if Debbie would notice her intense blush. 

"O-Ooh, I think I got the knot, right... there!"

With a quick jerk, Iris' arm slithered free from the constraints of the whisks, quickly reforming to normal at her side. She flexed it cautiously, before glancing over to Debbie. Iris took a quiet breath, before smiling, relieved.

"Whew. Thanks for the save, Debbie." She wiggled her fingers. "This is my favourite arm, hehe..."

"I-It's no problem. You've done so much for me, it's the very least I can do..." Debbie muttered, a blush of her own forming across her cheeks. 

Silence filled the bakery once more. Neither of the girls were brave enough to look each other in the eye: the room was getting hot...

"...O-Oh, the oven's preheated." Debbie changed the subject. "If the mixer's working... let's sanitize this stuff real fast, a-and we can throw everything together."

"...Right! The muffins! I didn't forget!" Iris blurted, very convincingly at that.

The two of them redoubled their efforts, determined to get the muffins ready and packaged before Debbie's parents were any the wiser...

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