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Edward Cullen Vs. Wolfgang Puck

What would happen if the Mariah Of Georgeous, (Edward) and the Jesus of cooking (Wolfgang Puck)had to go head-to-head in a cook-off? And what if that cook-off forms into something more...... a DANCE OFF!!

Yeah, the summary was correct, in this Fanfiction, you will read/witness the great Edward Cullen break-dancing!!! BTW: first fanfic, so review so i know if i suck or not!

4. Girl Scouts, Proper Muffin-throwing Tecnique, and... CARLISLE?!?!?

Rating 5/5   Word Count 535   Review this Chapter

Well, I had found out that it was not wise to try to use a jackhammer to cut a muffin. Trust me on this one. So, the only other logical explanation was, of course, to use duck tape. Tell me, when you think of powerful, grey, sticky things, what do you think of? DUCK TAPE OF COURSE! I mean; what else? But was hideous, grey duck tape good enough for my muffins?!?! Of course not!!!! This is why I used TIE-DYE!!! It’s red, green, blue and purple, and it’s AWESOME! But anyways, you people at home are probably wondering how I cut the muffins, but I ain’t tellin’! Muahahahahahahaha...

However, I will share the proper way of throwing a muffin. 1) Once the muffin top is as thin as it can possibly be, put your thumb on the top side, with your fingers curled under, as you would hold a Frisbee. 2) Chuck at head. 3) Run away inconspicuously. Unfortunately, step 3 didn’t turn out too well; but you don’t need to hear that story to know what happened… do you? Well, if you do, just know this: Edward Cullen = not inconspicuous. Done, end of story.

Anyhoo, as I finished my oh-so secret muffin-cutting ceremony, I rang that little bell thingy that signaled for ‘doneness’ and I decided to celebrate by yelling ‘WHAT NOW!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!’ into Wolfgang Puck’s eardrum and possibly shattering it. Oh, well, not much of a loss anyways, because he didn’t answer any of his fans’ questions, like ‘Can I have your number?’ ‘Will you marry me?’ and ’Will you sign my butt?’ I, however, always answer with a polite Yiddish swear, which they always seem to generate as a ‘yes’, because I have had many people pants themselves, and take out a sharpie, thinking I will sign.

As Pukeface and I went towards the judging table, I was trampled to a pulp. ‘By whom?’ you might ask. We were trampled by the most vicious creatures on the face of the world; Girl Scouts. That’s right, ten-thousand Girl Scouts descended upon us. To tell the truth, I was scared. A lot. A lot a lot. A LOT. Then the creepy announcer person on a zambonie machine or something popped out of nowhere and assaulted us with hand-shaking, and explained that the Girl Scouts would be our ‘gracious’ judges. The only thought running thought my head was why didn’t I make the muffins pink?!

Once all of the girls were finally sitting criss-cross-applesauce, they started serving.

I couldn’t watch.

To take my mind off things, I decided to see who the blonde dude in the bikini was. Again, I was kind of scared. If it was Mike, I swear I would kill myself, that my Bella would have dated him… ugh, I shivered. He was still sitting in the front row, staring at me. I thought I saw recognition in his face, but I didn’t look hard enough to tell. As I approached, he started backing away from me, as if ashamed. I used my vampire speed to catch up with him, and when I looked in his face, of all people, guess who I saw?

“HOLY POOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”