Emma+G


 * The Donalds Affair **

"Dad, don't you understand? I don't want to be a farmer like you!" Mick yelled to his father. "It's the Donalds family tradition! You have no choice." shouted back Old Mick. Mick Donalds grew up in Ballarat, Victoria with his parents Old Mick and Gloria-Jean. He did not have any other siblings, so he was constantly surrounded by attention from his parents. Mick loved all the attention from his mum but from his dad, no so much. Old Mick never understood why his son would betray family tradition and choose a different career path. However Mick saw it from a different perspective. Ever since he could eat solid food, Mick wanted to be a chef. His father just never understood and every single day they would have the same, redundant argument.
 * CHAPTER ONE - FRIES **

Old Mick grabbed a nearby bucket and stormed out to milk the cows, slamming the door behind him. Mick aggravated and annoyed, yanked a bowl out of the cupboard and did what he always did when his father was being a jerk - he cooked. This was a bitter sweet revenge, Mick got to cook fantastic food that his father would then struggle to resist. Old Mick had too much pride to eat anything his son cooked. To him it was like admitting defeat and letting his son become a chef, something Old Mick was not willing to do. As Mick peeled a potato used for his all famous fries, his mum walked down the stairs. "Morning Micky," she yawned. Mick grunted and continued to peel. "What has he said now?" Gloria-Jean sighed as she began making a coffee. "Same as always." said Mick. "One day he'll realise what a great chef you are, just give him some time." Gloria replied. "I've given him plenty of time, Mum." Gloria poured boiling water into her mug and Mick began to chop the peeled potatoes. "Did I tell you? Jack and Jill are coming to stay." said Gloria breaking the short silence. "Are you kidding me?" Mick moaned. He could not stand his cousins, they were rats! Jack and Jill were twins and boy did they annoy the heck out of Mick. As if one 5 year old wasn't bad enough, Mick had to put up with two. "Why? Why? Why? Are they staying with us?!" shouted Mick. "Mickolas Donalds, that's enough." Gloria replied. She never full named him, Mick was quite shocked. "They are staying with us because Auntie Gretel and Uncle Hansel need some time to work things out. Their marriage is going through a rough patch at the moment. So stop being so selfish." "I have every right to be selfish, Mum. I mean first they come in and scare the chickens to death so it takes them months to lay one lousy egg, then they stomp all over the vegetable garden so there's no home grown food till spring and THEN they come along and play fake kitchen out in the mud with my favourite cooking bowl!" Mick screamed at the top of his lungs. He threw a potato on to the ground and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him, much like his father.

Jack and Jill were to arrive the following morning.


 * CHAPTER TWO – CHEESEBURGER **
 * Old Mick pulled into the driveway with two little rats hitting each other in the backseat. Mick and Gloria stood in front of the house waving and smiling politely. Gloria was being sincere, Mick was not. They jumped out of the car and ran towards Mick, they adored him but Mick never understood why. **
 * “Cousin Micky!” they screamed in unison. He hated them calling him ‘Cousin Micky’. **
 * “Jack and Jill, wow you’re so tall.” he replied fake smiling. **
 * “I’m taller.” Jack replied in a high pitch voice. **
 * “No you’re not, I am.” Jill snapped. **
 * “Na-uhhh.” This began their first fight. The rats hadn’t even been here 30 seconds thought Mick. **
 * “Alright guys, let’s get you settled,” said Gloria stepping in. “Take them to the guest bedroom please, Mick.” **
 * Mick led the way, followed by the twins who pushing each other the whole time. As Mick opened the door to the guest bedroom it seemed the twins were no longer behind him. Mick glanced down the doorway and saw his bedroom door was wide open. He groaned, he’d been doing a lot of that recently. Mick walked in to his bedroom to find Jill jumping on his bed giggling and Jack looking through the things on his desk. **
 * “What are you guys doing?” Mick asked. **
 * “Playing.” giggled Jill. **
 * “Well play in the guest bedroom, this is my room,” Mick said grabbing Jill’s wrist. “And get out of there Jack. That’s private.” **
 * “What is the KFC?” Jack asked holding up a poster that was hidden in his drawers. **
 * “Nothing.” Mick said snatching it back. **
 * “Is it a secret?” Jill asked. **
 * “No it’s not a secret.” Mick sighed, how would he survive the weekend? **
 * “It is! You’re lying.” Jack said. “My mum said lying is bad.” **
 * “I’m not lying.” **
 * “Then tell us, or we’ll tell Auntie Gloria that you hit me.” Jill replied. They had surely gotten smarter since the last time Mick had seen them. **
 * “She wouldn’t believe you.” said Mick. And like that Jill was down on the floor screaming as Jack began to make her arm look red. **
 * “Everything alright up there?” yelled Gloria-Jean from downstairs. **
 * “Yes mum.” replied Mick “Alright, shut up and I’ll tell you.” **
 * The twins sat on Mick’s bed listening. “The KFC is a cooking thing, you know what cooking is right?” Mick asked. **
 * “Yes, we aren’t silly.” Jack laughed. **
 * “Well it stands for the Kentucky Fride Cook-off. It’s where chef’s from all over the world come to Ballarat and compete for $10,000. It’s run by the very famous Mr. Kentucky Fride, have you heard of him?” They nodded intently. **
 * “Are you competing, Mick?” asked Jill. **
 * “No, Old Mick wouldn’t let me compete. Maybe next year.” Mick sighed. **
 * “Why?” Jack asked sympathetically. **
 * “He doesn’t think I should cook but don’t mention this to him. Okay?” **
 * “You should go anyway, Micky.” Jill said. **
 * “Yeah! We’ve tasted your fries.” Jack agreed. **
 * “You guys are very mischievous 5 year olds.” **
 * “Micky, we are 10 now.” Jill said. Mick was horrified, they were very short 10 year olds. **
 * “I know I was joking.” Mick quickly covered up the error. He stood up and walked over to the door. “So are going?” Jack asked. The twins were smiling, convinced he should go to the KFC. “Maybe.” replied Mick. **
 * “You know we could help you get away with it.” Jill whispered. **
 * “I think about it, now go put your things in the guestroom.” Mick said. **

After tossing and turning all night, Mick decided maybe the twins were right and maybe he should go. $10,000 would certainly prove to Old Mick he was serious about cooking for a living. Mick glanced at his clock, it read 7am. The twins would surely be up, they were morning people. Mick got out of bed and began walking down the hallway, he could hear his mum making a coffee. He knocked and slowly opened the door. The twins were lying in the bed talking. “Hey Micky!” Jill said. Mick shushed them and quickly closed the door. “I need your help.” he whispered. “With the KFC?” Jack asked. Mick nodded. “Will you help me?” The twins nodded and smiled an evil grin. About an hour later, Gloria-Jean called them for breakfast. “So that’s the plan then?” Jack whispered. “Yep.” Jill replied. Mick smiled, his cousins seemed to be less annoying. “When is the KFC, Mick?” Jill asked. “Tomorrow. I know its soon but its just something I have to do.” Mick smiled “We understand. Old Mick must be hard to live with.” Jack laughed. “No kidding.” Gloria-Jean shouted from downstairs again. “Pancakes are getting cold!” The next day would be one to remember. Mick’s alarm went off at 4.30am. This was about half an hour before Old Mick would get up to tend to all the animals. He quickly walked down the hallway. “I’m leaving now. You guys alright?” The twins groaned in unison. “Sounds good, see you tonight.” Mick got ready and packed up all his cooking utensils as quietly as possible. He glanced at the clock by then it was 4.50am. Mick then heard is dad getting up, he was early this morning. Out of all the mornings in the year to get up early, he had to pick this one. Quickly Mick grabbed his things and ran out the door. He hoped on his bike and made his way to the main town. Mick rode his bike up and down hills for hours and he had worked up quite a sweat. Mick slowed down to look at the time, it was almost 7 o’clock. The competition started at 8am, so Mick had just enough time to sign in and prepare for the cook off ahead. He rode down the last hill and could see the main town of Ballarat. It looked beautiful, Mick loved his hometown. He locked his bike to a nearby pole and slowly walked over to the registration table. Two ladies dressed in blue blazers smiled at him. “Hi, I’d like to register for the KFC.” “Wow, looks like you’ve just gotten the last spot. Lucky you.” One of the ladies said. Mick laughed. “Name?” the other lady asked him. “Mickolas Donalds.” Mick replied ecstatically. “Age?” “16.” “This must be your first year.” “Yes it is.” “Well good luck you’ll need it.” the women laughed. Mick just smiled politely, he didn’t need luck. “You are number 42 and here is your badge. Please wear this at all times.” One of the women said firmly. “Thankyou for registering.” “Thanks.” Mick replied. He put the number 42 badge on and made his way into the main hall. Two more women in blue blazers were sitting at another table in the centre of the hall lobby. There was a door either side of them. The door to the left had ‘CHEFS” written on it and the door to the right had “SPECTATORS” written on it. Mick didn’t realise people could come along to watch the KFC. He approached the women. “Hi, I’m a chef for today.” “Little young don’t you think?” One of them women said. The other ladies were much nicer. “I’m just the right age.” Mick replied. The same women scoffed and handed him a piece of paper. “To the left, Thanks.” She said. Mick made his way to the left door and walked through. Mick entered and was amazed at the size of the town all. There were rows and rows of silver benches that were decked out with stove tops and ovens. Most of the competitors had already stood behind their designated benches and were reading over the piece paper given to them. Some were even making quick notes on it. Mick walked up the stairs to the very back row of benches, the last bench was his. He stood behind it and looked at his sheet. It was an ingredients list. All of the competitors in the KFC had the same ingredients and were supplied with exactly the same bench tops. What utensils the competitor brought along was up to them. Mick read the ingredients thoroughly and it seemed all of his dreams had come true. The list read; INGREDIENTS Bonus Ingredients Include; *Please note, you are not required to use all the ingredients provided. Mick was very excited, he knew exactly what to make. Fries. However surely he couldn’t win just by his fries there were highly trained professionals surrounding him. He studied the ingredients and could not figure out what to do with them. He thought about Old Mick and how everyday he would scream at Mick about being and farmer. One of the very first times Old Mick yelled at him, Mick got back by making pancakes for breakfast. The smell was amazing and Old Mick forced himself to resist however it was killing his stomach. It then came to Mick. With the ingredients provided he could make his all famous fries and pancakes to go with it. This would surely kill the competition. A little less then 5 minutes later the world known Kentucky Fride came out to make an opening speech.” I am Kentucky Fride.” The audience were now visible and cheering for Kentucky. “These chefs, amateur or well known will be cooking up a storm today.” The crowd cheered once again. “I see some familiar faces out there, Nan Doughs, Yum Charr and Red Rustar. G’day. I then see some not so familiar faces. Anyway, I better not ramble much longer as I want to eat this fantastic food.” Kentucky paused, the crowd were very excited also. “The judges today are – Oliver Jamie, Pan Cayke and myself Kentucky Fride. So without further ado LET’S COOK!” The food would be amazing “STOP COOKING!” shouted Kentucky Fride. The competition was over, there was no more time to cook. Mick had just finished his pancakes and fries and they were now sitting perfectly on two plates. Other competitors had not finished in time and had to present whatever they had cooked. The judges went along all of the tables, tasting the food and making notes. Mick was filled with nerves. He looked at table 41, the man beside him had cooked a feast. Tomato omelette with a couple of lettuce leafs beside it, a chocolate milkshake and potato wedges. The food looked amazing. The man then noticed Mick looking over. “First competition?” he asked. “Yes, yours?” Mick replied. “No, fifth. Names Jack. Hungry Jack.” “Your name is Hungry?” “It’s a nickname, kid” “Ohhh.” Mick didn’t know whether or not to laugh. “How come you haven’t named your meal?” Hungry Jack asked. “Are we supposed to?” “Didn’t you read the rules on the back of the paper?” Hungry Jack looked at Mick as if he was an idiot. “No.” Mick sighed, he was an idiot. “Well quickly the judges are at 37.” The judges were quickly to move onto another bench and were coming up to his. Mick scribbled the first thing that popped into his head. He called his meal Mick Donalds. It was simple and just his name, what’s not to like? The judges approached his bench and tried his food. Nobody threw up, so Mick took this as a good sign. They said nothing and barely changed their facial expressions. All the Oliver Jamie, Pan Cayke and Kentucky Fride all then made their way down to the front of the stage. ** “Thankyou to all those who competed.” The audience cheered for Kentucky Fride who was now at the front of the stage with Pan and Oliver behind him. “After much thought and arguing the judges and myself managed to come to a decision.” A man in the front row began a slow drum roll. “The winner is … JACK HUNGARY with his meal ‘A Fat Man’s Dinner’! Come on down Jack.” The crowd cheered as the man beside Mick ran down to the front of the stage, collecting his novelty cheque of $10,000. Mick’s heart sank, he really thought he had a chance. A small tear began to fall down Mick’s cheek. …. Old Mick awoke with a fright, it was 4.50am. He got up out of bed and walked upstairs to his son’s room. Mick was sound asleep. “Mick?” Old Mick whispered poking his son. Mick groaned and rolled over. “Yeah?” he asked. “You should become a chef.”
 * This would play on Mick’s mind. **
 * CHAPTER THREE – THICKSHAKE **
 * CHAPTER FOUR – SUNDAE **
 * Potato
 * Plain Flour
 * Eggs
 * Milk
 * Lettuce
 * Tomato
 * Chocolate
 * Salt
 * Pepper
 * Vegetable Oil
 * Butter
 * Water
 * CHAPTER FIVE – NUGGETS **
 * CHAPTER SIX – COOKIES

**END**