The Head of the Triangle

                It was day one of Aunt Cinchona’s visit and the girls where already feed up with everything.  But of course, they were the ones that had to be on their best behavior, the Restaurant depended on it.

                Pepper had been in the kitchen turning on the mixer to mix the cooking oil and the eggs together. She went to the oven, pulling out that batch of cookies. She had been making cookies for a fundraiser that a local charity will be hosting on Christmas Eve. She was in the restaurant’s kitchen instead of their own kitchen, it seemed like the most logical option, the mixer here was bigger than the one downstairs, so that means it will be down faster.

                Placing the batch of cookies onto the counter, she then quickly hurried off to turn off the mixer. Once the mixer was off she, picked up a bag of cookie mix and—

                “You know your hair counts as a safety hazard…” And then there was the voice of Aunt Cinchona. Pepper rolled her eyes, dumping the cookie mix into the mixer.

“My hair has been this length for a long time and it never been an issue.”   The bluenette placed the now empty bag onto the counter.

Aunt Cinchona walked up closer grabbing one of her pigtails, “One day a customer is going to be finding a blue hair in their food.”

“But they haven’t and they won’t.”

Aunt Cinchona shrugged, dropping the ponytail and walking off.

Well, that was sort off odd now wasn’t it? Pepper grabbed the scissors from the counter and another bag of cookie mix, and started to cut—

Oh, wait, the mixer needs to be turned on. Flick goes the switch.

Then there’s a pulling pain on. She then screams falling on her knees, she tried pulling her head, trying to get her hair out of the mixer, but it doesn’t work. It hurt it really did. She still had the scissors in her hand, luckily. She then began snipping away at the blue fibers.

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