Blanket & Mattress

Drunk Sonic challenges equally drunk Shadow to a cooking competition. It doesn't go as planned.

TAGs: Sonic the Hedgehog, Shadow the Hedgehog, one-shot, Writing Exercise, Wordcount: 100-1.000, drunk characters, humor

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the Sonic the Hedgehog franchise.

"Just wait and see!" Sonic declares, dropping like twice more flour into the bowl than he intended. Though he doesn't preoccupy himself with it too much as he just needs to put in like...um...thrice as much of everything else, right? "My legendary pancakes are the best food you'll ever taste!"

"Tsk, they stand no chance against my Ultimate ones." Shadow snorts from his side of the table, he himself taking considerably more effort with measuring his ingredients—because he's perfectionist and the goddamn little numbers are swimming all over the place. Those tiny bastards. "When it comes to cooking, precision is the key and you—" Shadow gestures to Sonic's side of table where more ingredients seem to spilled outside the bowl rather than in it. "—clearly have none of that."

"Oh, yeah?" The hero raises his brow. "You know even the best chefs say a bit of improvisation—" Sonic adds another ingredient to his mix. Wait, hasn't he already put cinnamon in there? Oh, well, everybody likes cinnamon, it'll be alright. "—is what makes any dish awesome!"

"A 'bit' is probably the keyword here," Shadow mutters as he watches Sonic add at least yet another spoonful of cinnamon into the thing. At this rate the hero will use it up all himself. The agent frowns. He can't let that happen. "Pass the cinnamon."

"Give me a moment." Sonic mutters, attempting to fill yet another spoon with the spice. Shadow loses his patience in that moment, throwing a handful of flour at the other to distract him, snatching the cinnamon from the coughing hedgehog's hands.

The moment Sonic manages to stop coughing and squints at him, the hero throw the agent a glare and grabs his own bag of flour. "This means war!" he declares and throws a handful of the white powder at the agent. Shadow in his drunken state isn't quite able to dodge fast enough.

A whole minute later, there's no surface in the kitchen without at least a grain of flour on it and the two of them are covered from head to toe in the stuff.

However, Sonic still attempts to throw yet another handful at Shadow. But this time he stumbles and loses his balance. Automatically, Shadow steps in to help but overestimates his own current balancing capabilities. They both hit the floor just a moment later in a heap of black, blue and flour-covered fur.

"...Alright, alright. You win," Sonic announces with a laugh once he's able to breath properly again, shaking a bit to get the flour of his fur to the displeasure of Shadow over whom he's currently draped over. Shadow squeezes his eyes shut to at least prevent the flour from falling into his eyes. "Congratulations," Sonic adds but makes no move to get off the other; his vision has been swimming for some time now, his body suddenly feels too tired to move and Shadow's comfortable. Yawning, he figures he might as well settle where he is, his drunken mind insisting Shadow surely won't mind. "...You make a great mattress, Shad, you know that?"

Luckily, for him, Shadow's not in much better stare, all the alcohol in his body making him sleepy and indifferent to being used as a cushion. "You make a great blanket yourself," Shadow mutters instead, finding the hero's body to be comfortably warm. "A bit noisy but at least entertaining one."

"Betcha you never had one with this much personality."

Shadow shots him a look. "Definitely not one with such a big ego."

Sonic chuckles. "You're one to talk, mattress," he teases before yawning once more, eyes already slipping shut.

"Shut it, blanket," Shadow shots back.

Sonic's soft snores are his only answer.