#clownov

Phil turns and tosses them toward the bin. Miraculously, they go in.

He keeps reading. “Dark treacle, vanilla extract, oats, flour, sugar, butter…”

“Yeah, skip the standards.”

“That’s it, then.”

“Eggs?”

“You said skip the basics.”

“But we have eggs.”

Phil turns and checks the fridge. “Three eggs.”

“It’ll do.”

*

They don’t have a plan.

They dump every single fucking ingredient into a batter and then top it off with sugar and butter and milk and stir until their arms ache.

Well, not every ingredient.

Phil eats a third of the chocolate chips and a fourth of the toffee chips before they make it to the bowl.

But that’s alright. Dan doesn’t even scold him for it.

The universe is lawless tonight.

*

“Dan, I don’t think biscuit dough is supposed to look like that.” Phil stars down at the lump in the bowl. It’s slightly too dry in some places and slightly too wet in others yet doesn’t seem to want to mix together.

Dan scoops some out on his finger. He hasn’t washed his hands. Listeria can fucking come for him. “Fuck,” he says, slightly in shock.

Phil frowns. “That bad?”

“No.” He scoops more on his finger, then all but shoves it into Phil’s mouth.

Phil’s eyes go comically wide. He sucks at Dan’s finger like he doesn’t want the taste to escape when Dan starts to pull his hand free. “Fuck,” Phil exclaims. “That’s amazing.”

*

The cookies look horrific when they come out of the oven.

They’d used to a spoon - every other bite going into their mouths and not on the tray - so they’re lumpy and uneven, some more oval than oblong. The ends of some are tinged a dark brown just shy of burnt while the middles look pale and jiggle a little when touched.

“I don’t care,” Dan says. He can see one with a chocolate chip and a toffee chip melted together just peeking out. “I’m eating it.”

“You’re going to burn your mouth,” Phil says, but he’s already reaching for one, too.

They take their bites in unison, noisy satisfied sighs. “Is this supposed to be like, a lesson from the universe or something?” Dan asks.

“Wassat?” Phil has a mouth full of biscuit.

“Like…” Dan pauses, licks chocolate off his thumb. “Sometimes things that look like shit can end up working out alright.”

Phil looks dubious. “I think it’s more like, if you dump every sweet thing you have into a bowl, it’ll taste good.”