Something will happen! Trust me!
Chapter 13: The Princess Reassigned
It was later in that day that Peach, having returned to her room feeling so deflated in spirit, was visited by none other than a rose-colored boo, who had arrived inside the princess's small abode via wall, without any warning or invitation. The supercilious ghost, holding her pencil and clipboard in a haughty fashion, helped the princess to her reassigning, in which Peach was asked a number of meaningless questions, some of them involving Booregard on which occassions the blushing boo would gnaw at the eraser of her pencil until it threatened to detactch itself. When asked the final question, 'Which of the following skills would you say to prevail at?', the princess stated that she was best at cooking. It was from this that she was given her new assignment.
"You are to be a chef," the boo stated bluntly, scribbling something upon the clipboard with her chewed up pencil.
"What?" Peach said more as a statement than a question. "You bombard me with meaningless questions and this is all you come up with?"
"Those questions were not meaningless!" the boo shot back, her black eyes contrasting much with her rosy complexion. "They allowed me to see what an ignorant girl you are!" Peach grunted in disbelief as her questioner quickly hovered out through the wall before the princess could manage to chide a response.
The night brought nothing but anxiety to Peach as she laid in her bed, unable to shut her weary eyes. She was still nowhere close to finding her way out of the haunting mansion she was kept in, but all the same felt hopeful of the outside world. She knew that Toadsworth wouldn't let her disappearance go so unnoticed and unthought after. It never worried her to think of what trouble he must be going through to get her safely home. It was that very warm thought of the castle that brought about Peach's heavy eyelids.
Heavy knocks and commosion in the hallway was what stirred the princess to wake as it was a new morning once again. She groaned as her arms stretched above her head, reaching towards the ceiling. Her wiry blonde hair attatched at her forearms, the meandering frays of her once-golden locks hanging on to anything they could, with confusion of beimg at their current state.
Reluctant to doff her conforting nightgown, Peach pulled open the dresser drawer to see what uniform called upon her today. Pulling it from its den, Peach decided that the chef's outfit was far better than the french-maids' rags. It consisted on a long white dress, not lacy or poofy in the least, and a light pink apron. The material of the dress was almost as soft as her nightgown, and she decided not not be intolerant of the way it fit (though Peach thought still that the armpits of the dress were too high).
After being dressed by the reflection of the large bathroom mirror, the anxious princess did what she could with her hair. Though it looked curlier than usual, and was far from perfect, Peach set it in her mind that she did not want to woo anyone with her looks in the first place, and cared not of her appearance in such a surreal place as Licknot Manor. However, Peach forced herself to wear the white shoes, as she would feel quite ridiculous barefoot in a dress that didn't even reach her ankles.
The hard, glossy pieces of footwear, however, were quite comfortable, and had heals that hardly even reached a half an inch off the ground.
"Come on! You haven't got all day!" cried a rather rancorous voice from outside Peach's door. Her stomach jumped as she flipped her wavy blonde locks one last time and darted out the bathroom to show her pale face to the hall. A grumpy-looking toad stood at the opposite side of her door. He mumbled to himself as he moved along down the corridor, stopping at each door to give it a good pounding and a shouting to.
The princess had found herself unsure of where to go yet again, though found relief as she took sight of a koopa in the very same uniform as she. Being satisfied at her discovery of a co-worker, Princess Peach followed the koopa at a safe distance until it lead her up a short flight of a stairs. Being cautious, Peach hovered at the foot, waiting to see what the peak of the short climb would bring her. The koopa smoothed out its apron as it opened the door. The sound of clinking knives and ringing buzzers emitted from inside, and Peach was sure that it was the kitchen. The door shut as the sounds disappeared from Peach's mind, and she quickly made her way up the stairs.
The room behind the door was most unmistakebly the area for the chefs. It seemed as though everything inside was made of old, glossy white tiles, that had faded in their long years, and chipped, and had been scathed to the point of looking very homey. One might say that the room dind't judge you at all, but rather asked you of your talent and proceeded to observe your actions in a wise and respectful manner. The tiles crawled up from the floor at the steepest of angles, and proceeded to travel upward until coming to a very precise halt, in which the rest of the wall up would consist of simply being painted a soft color of orange. Wooden tables rested at rather random areas throughout the room, carrying items such as bowls of vegetables, loaves of bread, skillets of mixed foods, piles of flour and dough, and various kitchen ware.
Toads, koopas, and a large range of varying creatures were all very busy, at the moment, that they did not notice Peach come in. The princess was puzzled to see the actions that they were all participating in, and felt a sudden quench of uneasiness rush over her as she was the only person present who was confused at what to do. The many chefs (all in uniform) were lining up together in a single file, rather the same of what the maids were doing when Peach first saw the ghost siren. As the cooks continued to organize themselves straightly, the poor girl proceeded to fumble with her fingers.
Taking in a new breath, Princess Peach decided that she would feel confident about herself, and she refused to let any lack of self-assurance interfere with her common knowledge. Like the rest of her co-workers, she stood at the end of the line, back stiff and shoulders back, looking at the penguin next to her as a comparison to what she ought to be doing.
"Alright everyone, quiet now, the Lord Van Vougore will be coming anon!" piped up a rather sophisticated-looking shy guy from the opposite end of the line, looking in control of what was taking place.
Peach felt her stomach churn and her lungs heave, feeling very anxious to meet the one called Van Vougore. She hadn't much doubt in her mind that he was the ghostly leader of the cooking department in Licknot Manor, just as Lady Caprishriek was of cleaning. She ran her hands over her apron nervously as silence finally took fall over the glossy room.
As the kitchen found its contents terse, it replied with an eerie echo as to having its foot in its mouth. The princess simply looked straight ahead, trying to blend in with her surroundings in the best she possibly could, and hoping for the acceptance from the rest of the food connoisseurs, which she most wantingly pleaded for inside. But, if not acceptance she recieves, at least respect of her business and her ways (thinking of the rude and vile maid she had met in the hallway on that loatheful afternoon).
Peach's anxiety was brought to a forcably sudden halt, as the reason for all such pressure in her bosom had arrived through the narrow door (or, perhaps, too narrow door) at that precise moment. It was the ghastly ghoul called Lord Van Vougore, also known under the title of Head Chef. He was as green as a sea-sick captain, and as round a hot-air balloon. His ghostly tail was so small, that it dared contrast much with Van Vougore's sphere of a body. His chubby face was paler than the moon, or rather, it was as white as soft flour, either metaphor would work, and had beady black eyes like buttons, much segregated from the round silver icicles of Lady Caprishriek. Below a red bump in the center of his face was a slimy little black mustache, smoothed over so much that one may not ever be able to notice a single strand of hair popping from its glazed fixture.
Peach found the ghost rather intimidating, more than probably due to his large presence, unfound specks of eyes, and very small, stiff, knotted mouth. However, the poofy white chef's hat atop his round head looked so very much unlike him, that Peach could help not but let out a stifle of laughter. It was in this small giggle that Peach's hand was immediately brought to her mouth, and her ears grew very much red. It was unfortunate for the princess that Lord Van Vougore was to hear her, and hovered to her side like a boulder, his large white apron bellowing along his belly. As he moved closer, the poor protagonist could've sworn he grew even more mammoth than that he was before.
"'Ees something funne', pretty girl?" asked he, his French accent making his voice sound arrogant.
Peach was far too frightened to speak, or rather, it was that or she was still trying to hold in another small outburst of laughter as she looked into the face of Van Vougore, passified greatly by the bundle of marshmallows sitting atop his head.
"No..." Peach finally stated, with an added, "sir."
"Well then why do you laugh, hmm?" he said. It was when his massive hand stretched to one of his jiggling chins that Peach noticed that this creature before her had not two arms, but four. He was a quad-handler! Two arms were on each side of his great torso, one being directly underneath the other. They were very great arms, though not showing much (or any) muscle, great all the same in their size.
"Vou laugh for what reason, my fleur?" said he again, in a tone that sounded anything but sweet. The two bottom arms that were opposing each other folded condescendingly while the other proceeded to rest its elbow on its neighbor, thus bringing its hand to stroke the chef's chin in curiousity.
"There, is..... nothing," Peach said, closing her mouth as if nothing more was she to say to get the point across any clearer.
There was another great silence that encircled the room. Oh, if the discomfort were to last but much longer Peach was sure of something inside her being tempted to burst! It was after much an uncomfortable lifetime that Van Vougore turned his back and guided himself to the line of symmetry stretching from the medium of the single file.
"Vou all know your jobs, no? Get to them then! And make haste, for patience today I have not!" cried he, directing his finger (which was, if you must know, the finger residing on the top arm of his right shoulder) into the air, and pursing his already tight lips.
Peach's stomach did a quite familiar backflip yet again, as she was in the comfortable position of knowing not a thing she ought to be doing.
"Me fleur, vou are to pound le dough!" said Van Vougore suddenly at Peach, giving her instructions for the day. Peach was hesitant in movement, but nodded shyly all the same as Van Vougore confirmed her acknowledgment, and proceeded to float over to a large stove poistioned near the center of the tiled room.
The dainty princess tugged upon her collar, and inhaled a strong breath of flour and scents. Though this first day of work was beginning far better than the last, Peach was still aware that accidents were bound to happen, and that she needed to be careful. Tying her hair in a pony tail, she made her way over to the long wooden table near the wall, in which there was a group of toads pounding out clumps of heavily floured dough.
