Recipe for Disaster

  For Mary K

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thanks to Kristen LeClerc, Krista Vitola,

  Catherine Laudone, Tom Daly, Dorothy Gribbin, and the rest of the S&S team.

  CHAPTER ONE FRANNY’S HOUSE

  The Stein family lived in the pretty pink house with the lovely purple shutters down at the end of Daffodil Street. Everything about the house was bright and cheery.

  When you think about it, pink and purple paint look quite nice together, but that just wasn’t the type of thing that Franny thought about.

  In fact, Franny hardly ever thought about paint, unless you could use it to make yourself invisible, or fireproof, or if it was the kind that could make you taste terrible to monsters.

  Any mad scientist will tell you that tasting too good is a very dangerous thing.

  No, pretty much the only time she really thought about paint was when she found some on her toothbrush, which was happening more and more often since Igor had taken up a new hobby: painting.

  “It’s a toothbrush, Igor. Not a paintbrush,” she shouted from her bathroom.

  Igor had been showing a real interest in art lately, and was slowly getting better at it.

  He had also taken up gymnastics.

  All that bouncing around was probably how the paint got on the toothbrush.

  Franny didn’t really mind. She wasn’t very interested in art herself, but painting made Igor happy, and this hobby was a lot safer for the world than when he helped Franny with her experiments.

  MUCH safer.

  CHAPTER TWO GET YOUR BAKED GOODS STRAIGHT

  Franny watched out the window of her classroom as two workers carried a big, rusty piece of junk out of the school.

  She raised her hand.

  “Miss Shelly, what is that thing?”

  “It looks like the old furnace,” her teacher said. “I think the school is getting a nice new one. The old one never worked very well.”

  “They’re not just going to throw that away, are they??” Franny squealed.

  “I don’t know what they’re going to do with it, Franny-” Miss Shelly began, but before she could finish, Franny was out the door, down the hallway, and outside.

  She ran toward the workers, waving her arms.

  “Guys! Wait, wait! I can use that thing. Can I have it?”

  They chuckled at her.

  “What are you going to do with it?” one of them joked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” Franny said, rubbing her hands over the surface of it. “But that is some good, heavy steel. I could make a lot of stuff from this.”

  “Like what?” the other man asked.

  “Like, I could make a small tank, I think, or maybe a rocket-maybe some kind of robot. I’ll invent something.”

  “But this thing has already been invented,” one of them said. “It’s a furnace.”

  “Then maybe I’ll reinvent it,” she told them.

  Miss Shelly walked out of the school to get Franny. When she got there, she found that the workers were laughing at her, and Franny didn’t even seem to notice.

  “This little cupcake says she wants to make a rocket out of this,” one of them said to Miss Shelly with a snicker.

  Miss Shelly smiled.

  “She can do that, you know.”

  The worker sneered. He didn’t believe Miss Shelly, either.

  Miss Shelly’s face became very serious. “You remember that giant asteroid that crashed into the earth last month and destroyed half the planet?”

  “No,” they said.

  “That’s because this little cupcake here blew it out of the sky with a rocket she made out of a broken refrigerator and an old dollhouse,” Miss Shelly said proudly.

  The workmen stared at Franny nervously.

  “Never underestimate a little cupcake. Lots of them are real smart cookies,” Miss Shelly said.

  “So, can I have it?” Franny grinned.

  “You may have it,” Miss Shelly said, “but you have to promise not to build anything destructive.”

  “Nothing destructive! I promise!” Franny replied, clapping her hands. She turned to the workmen.

  “Thanks SO much! Just leave it out here. I’ll come back after school and get it.”

  “Aren’t you going to need some help?” one of the workers asked. “It’s pretty heavy.”

  “Oh, I’ll have help,” she said. “I have a lab assistant.”

  “A lab assistant?” they asked.

  “Well, he’s not a pure Lab,” Miss Shelly added. “He’s also part poodle, part Chihuahua, part beagle, part spaniel, part shepherd, and part some kind of weaselly thing that isn’t even exactly a dog.”

  CHAPTER THREE SALE FAIL

  After school, Franny walked to the front lobby to wait for Igor to help her with the furnace.

  She saw a small table with her friends Mona and Vincent behind it. They had a sign posted that said BAKE SALE.

  Franny examined the things they were selling. There were some ugly oatmeal cookies, some poorly frosted cupcakes, and a pile of things that she thought were either brownies or chunks of dirt.

  She picked up a plate and examined the items on it more closely.

  “What are these horrible-looking things?” Franny asked. “Some kind of giant poisonous mushrooms?”

  “Those are blueberry muffins,” Mona said. “I made those.”

  “On purpose?” Franny asked.

  Mona just scowled.

  “Are you trying to sell these?” Franny asked.

  “Yes,” Mona said sadly. “We’re trying to raise funds for the music and art departments. The school never has enough money for instruments or art supplies.”

  Franny thought for a moment.

  “That’s probably because that stuff isn’t as important as math and science,” Franny said.

  They eyed her angrily.

  “Let me ask you,” Vincent said. “Where did you learn about gears and guts and electronics and stuff like that?”

  “I learned it mostly from books,” Franny said.

  “Well, you know those drawings and diagrams in the books? Somebody had to draw and paint those,” he said. “An artist did that.”

  “And when you’re making your robots or monsters or whatever, do you ever have music playing in the background?” Mona asked.

  “I do,” Franny said. “The music makes the work easier somehow. And it makes the monsters less bitey.”

  “Music, dance, art, entertainment-these things all make the world better. They make people happy in a way that helps everyone enjoy their jobs more,” Mona said.

  Franny nodded. She liked all that stuff.

  “Maybe you have a point,” Franny said.

  Plus, Igor really liked music while he was painting or practicing gymnastics.

  Franny shrugged.

  “Okay, I think you’re right. All of those things are important,” Franny said. “Possibly very important.”

  Igor walked in and skipped up to the bake sale to look at the treats. He loved treats.

  He sniffed around and then tugged on Franny’s sleeve to leave.

  “If Igor doesn’t want something, that is not a good sign for your bake sale,” Franny said. “I’ve seen him eat a pile of dirty socks like it was a plateful of spaghetti.”

  Mona’s and Vincent’s sad, sad faces became even sadder.

  Franny couldn’t just leave them like that.

  “Okay, okay. Maybe I can bake some things you can sell. I’m sure I can do better than your blueberry poisonous mushroom thingies,” she said.

  “They’re muffins,” Mona said angrily.

  “Igor and I need to get my furnace home, and then I’ll see if I can come up with something that might help,” Franny told t
hem.

  “Thanks,” they said, and offered her a free cookie.

  A free, gross cookie.

  “I’m good,” Franny said.

  CHAPTER FOUR EASY BAKE

  Franny listened to some music as she stirred together cookie ingredients inside a big blue bowl.

  “Seriously, Igor, how difficult can baking be? You take some flour, add some sugar, toss it in the oven, and boom! You have delicious cookies, right?”

  Igor smiled and nodded. He had total faith in Franny’s baking skills.

  Three hours later, the kitchen was a mess, and most of the cookies Franny had made were either raw, burnt, or just plain nasty.

  Only one of them had turned out okay. She dropped it in Igor’s dish and let him eat it.

  “I give up,” Franny said. “This is too hard.”

  Igor ran and got a painting he had recently finished and waved it at Franny.

  “You’re reminding me that this is all about the art, right?” Franny said, taking off her apron.

  Igor nodded.

  “And how I told them I would help…”

  Igor barked.

  “Okay,” Franny said. “I get it. We won’t let our art friends down. But it’s clear that I’m not much of a baker. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to have to do this MY WAY. Igor, to the laboratory!”

  Igor gulped. Franny always got that look in her eye when she was about to do something experimental.

  CHAPTER FIVE THE BAKER MAKER

  Franny assembled an electronic brain and downloaded every recipe on Earth into it.

  She studied the fast and graceful movements of the best chefs, and constructed arms and hands that were just as confident and nimble.

  She also made one of those puffy chef hats because, c’mon, those things are adorable.

  Franny welded and bolted for hours, twisting and shaping the discarded furnace into a marvelous creation.

  She might not have been very good at baking goodies, but if you ever needed a giant steel robot with flames shooting out of its mouth and smoke coming out of its ears, she was your girl.

  And now this huge monstrosity stood before her, its inner fire burning steadily, patiently awaiting the orders of its creator.

  “You’re a baker,” she told it.

  Franny stared into its rusty metal face.

  “I promised that you would never do anything destructive. You got that?”

  The furnace nodded.

  “Good. Now I want you to also promise that you’ll make the best thing you can possibly make,” she told it.

  Its iron neck creaked as it nodded again.

  “It should be less sweet than a cupcake, but bigger and better than a cookie,” she began. “Something kids will really crave.”

  The machine’s electronic brain hummed.

  “I will make a muffin,” it croaked in a hollow, mechanical voice.

  “YES!” Franny cheered. “A muffin! That’s perfect! Mona will love that.”

  The machine’s inner fire crackled and grew slightly.

  Franny laughed and shouted, “I shall call you… the Muffin Man!”

  The Muffin Man’s internal fire raged and he glowed with heat. As a furnace, all he ever wanted to do was to give kids exactly what they wanted. Now he knew he could do precisely that. He grinned.

  “I want these muffins to be irresistible,” Franny said. “They need to be perfectly delicious. We need to sell a lot of these things, Muffin Man, so do your best.”

  The Muffin Man nodded and got to work, carefully measuring ingredients and combining them in the proper way. They watched him, marveling at his skill with measuring cups and the way he swiftly stirred the ingredients together.

  “The Muffin Man has everything under control,” Franny said to Igor. “You can go paint your pictures or do gymnastics or whatever you want.”

  Igor wagged his tail.

  “And I can get back to work on my other projects. I’m working on this one invention that lets you see into the future, and another one where you can burp into a robot’s face, and it can tell you if the burp smells gross or super gross.”

  Igor looked at her doubtfully.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. The burping one is way more fun. I’ll work on that one.”

  And as everybody in the lab went off in different directions to do what they did best, all was just perfect in the little pink house with the lovely purple shutters, down at the end of Daffodil Street.

  CHAPTER SIX YOU CAN’T BEAT HIS BATTER

  The next morning, Igor and Franny were amazed at the platters full of gorgeous muffins, beautifully wrapped in cellophane with appealing little bows.

  Igor snatched one up and began unwrapping it, but Franny grabbed the muffin from him before he could take a bite.

  “No, Igor. These are for the bake sale. Remember?”

  She patted the Muffin Man on the back.

  “Nice work,” she said. “We’ll take these to school and see how the kids like them. If they’re popular, I may need you to make a few more.”

  The Muffin Man smiled. He really hoped the kids would like them. This was what he was made to do.

  At the end of the day, Franny took the muffins to the table where Mona and Vincent were having another unsuccessful bake sale.

  “Put these out,” Franny said. “I think the kids will like them. We can give out some free samples to get them interested.”

  Franny crumbled a couple muffins into bite-size chunks and offered them to people passing by the table.

  A first grader named Danny stopped and looked at the samples.

  “Just take a taste,” Franny said. “It’s free.”

  He picked up a piece and took a tiny, cautious nibble. His eyes opened wide and he trembled. Danny clapped his hand over his mouth.

  “What’s wrong?” Franny said. “Is it awful?”

  Danny’s voice fell to a serious whisper.

  “It’s the most delicious thing I have ever tasted in my entire life,” he said.

  Then he dug deep into his pocket for the money to buy one.

  The other kids saw Danny happily devouring his muffin and they were immediately curious.

  After trying a sample, they also bought as many muffins as they could afford.

  “This is our best sale ever!” Mona told Franny. “Thanks so much for the muffins!”

  “You really are a hero,” Vincent told her. “Do you think you could make some more?”

  “No problem,” Franny said, and smiled. “Anything to help.”

  Franny picked up the empty plate and headed for the door, but Danny stepped in front of her.

  “Do you think there might be some muffin crumbs left on that plate?” he asked hopefully. “Could I have them?”

  Franny laughed.

  “Crumbs? Be serious, Danny. There will be more muffins here tomorrow.”

  When Franny got home, the Muffin Man was sitting quietly at the kitchen table, waiting for her.

  “Well, they really loved your muffins,” she told him. “I’d like you to make another batch, please.”

  The fire inside his internal oven became brighter and he began arranging his mixing bowls and measuring spoons.

  “You better bake a dozen extra,” Franny said. “If we’re lucky, we might get a few more buyers tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN LUCK HAS MUFFIN TO DO WITH IT

  When Franny walked into her school the next morning, there was a gigantic crowd around the bake sale table.

  “What’s going on?” Franny asked.

  “They want the muffins,” Mona said.

  “They were lined up when I got here,” Vincent added. “Do you have them?”

  “Aren’t your bake sales usually after school?” Franny asked them.

  “Yes, but they want them NOW!” Mona shouted.

  “Okay,” Franny said, and she handed them the bag of muffins.

  The group of kids pressed toward the table as Franny wriggled through them to ge
t to class.

  Franny walked in and took her seat.

  “Your muffins certainly are popular,” Miss Shelly said.

  “Isn’t it great?” Franny grinned. “They’re raising a lot of money for the art and music classes. It won’t be long before they have all the cash they need!”

  That day, Franny saw kids sneaking bites of muffins during class. At lunchtime, she saw two kids eating muffins instead of the sandwiches their parents had sent with them to school.

  As she was leaving for the day, Vincent and Mona stopped her in the hall.

  “We could really use more of those muffins tomorrow,” Mona said.

  “Like, ten times as many,” Vincent added.

  Franny noticed some smears on their faces.

  “Wait. You’re not eating them, are you? You’re supposed to be selling them, to raise money.”

  “We sell most of them,” Mona said.

  “And we always pay for the ones we eat,” Vincent said. “So it’s okay.”

  “I guess,” Franny said. “As long as you pay for them.”

  They grinned at her.

  “Okay. More muffins,” she confirmed. “The Muffin Man will be delighted.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT MORE BAKING. MORE DOUGH.

  Franny looked at the mess the Muffin Man was making and shook her head.

  “These bigger batches are taking up too much room,” Franny said. “There’s hardly any space for Igor to teach the monsters how to dance.”