(EqG) "Luna's Unforgettable Luncheon"

A truly unforgettable green. Probably the fastest one I've written, tbh.

>Be Luna: History Teacher, Shakespearean English Teacher, Vice Principal, and Secret Funder for the Anime Club.
>But mostly Vice Principal.
>Mostly.
>And it is imperative that today goes perfectly — you and your sister’s career may depend on it!
>You briskly stomp down the stairs, high-heels hitting their surface with loud clopping sounds.
>You hated wearing heels; they always feel like uncomfortable, awkward things meant to add length and elegance to one’s legs, grace and class to one’s appearance…
>...But only if you knew how to walk in them.
>If the shoes were slightly elevated in the heels, that would be one thing.
>In fact, you wear shoes like that to work, every day!
>Unfortunately, you’re not wearing those, but actual, business-casual high-heels, meant to be worn with a women’s button-up shirt, sports jacket, and skirt.
>O-or, at least that’s what you think?
“Tia! Tia, do I look presentable!?” you bellow from the bottom of the stairs in the foyer. “Tia!?”
>“Still in the kitchen, Lulu, dear!” hollers your dear sister.
>You race into the dining room, heading to the kitchen.
>A nice, warm smell immediately greets you as you enter, but you don’t have time to compliment Celestia’s marvelous cooking.
>Instead, you burst inside, still frazzled and anxious.
“Celestia, tell me how I look!”
>Celestia turns her head, washing her hands from the kitchen sink.
>The kitchen looks much cleaner now, thank God.
>Now if only Celestia had time to put something on that wasn’t just an apron…
>She nods at you with her sunshine smile.
>“That’s the one,” she says confidently. “Although the skirt does hug your waist a bit.”
>You gasp.
“Does my buttocks look fat!?”
>“Oh no, it shows off your figure really well, sister-dear,” Celestia assures you. “And who knows? If we show him a little of the ol’ sisters-in-crime charm, we might get through this at least somewhat more gracefully than before.”

>You roll your eyes with a smirk as Celestia giggles.
“Well, at least the kitchen is finally cleaned,” you say, looking at how spotless it is. “The roast smells extraordinary, too. How much longer till it is done?”
>“See for yourself,” she says, turning off the sink.
>You step over to the oven, staring at the timer with a worried face.
“...I thought it would be closer to being done?”
>“Yeah, well, I thought the oven didn’t heat it up enough.”
“But—”
>“Luna, it’s alright. It’s only ten more minutes,” says Celestia, drying her hands with the paper.
>She walks over to the pantry door where there are several hooks.
>She tries to undo the knot of her apron.
>“I’m glad to see that you’re taking this so seriously, though, Luna,” she continues, still struggling. “Especially after your six-month absence. It’s good to see you want to make things right and…”
>She huffs.
>“Can you help me untie this, please?”
“Of course, Tia.”
>You walk up behind her nude back and fiddle with the knot.
“Goodness, how did you tie this behind your back so tightly?” you ask.
>She looks at you from behind her shoulder.
>“‘Practice,’” she grins.
>You scoff at the smell of her breath.
“You’ve drunk wine.”
>“Oh, I didn’t mean to,” claims Celestia. “I just had a single glass from the bottle Cadence gave us. It kicks in fast, that’s all.”
“Just a glass?” you asks suspiciously.
>You’re almost done with this crazy knot.
>“I promise to you, Lulu. It’s still right over there,” she says, pointing to the counter.
“Fine, fine, I believe you,” you say. “Still, it would have been nice to save it for when our guest arrives.”
>Finally, just as your fingers were getting sore, the knot is undone.
>Celestia stretches her arms, pulling the apron off in the process…
>...While also leaving her naked figure completely uncovered.
>“Thank you, Luna,” says Celestia.

>She hangs the apron upon the hooks of the pantry door, then smiles.
>But not for long.
>She brings her arm closer to her nose, and sniffs.
>“Oh. Great. I smell like pot roast.”
“I told you not to make lunch before putting /something/ on,” you say, crossing your arms. “You should take a shower before he arrives.”
>Celestia’s brow raises in questionable worry.
>“Oh, I don’t know, Luna. He might stop by early. You know how he is!”
“With the directions you gave him, Tia? Oh, I’d have doubts about that,” you chuckle.
>Celestia sticks her tongue out at you and heads to the doorway.
>She pauses before dismissing herself.
>“...I was the best with maps when I was a Girl Scout, you know.”
“Then maybe you’re just old now.”
>Again, Celestia sticks her tongue out, and leaves.
>You think about saying there’s a spider on her butt just to mess with her, but decide not to.
>With the kitchen clean, the roast in the oven, and you well-dressed, it seems you finally have time to relax until your visitor arrives.
>You exit the kitchen and enter the dining room, then to the living room where your precious couch is.
>God, you could just sit down in that thing and take a great, long, nap.
>That’d be wonderful.
>Unfortunately, you can’t.
>Today is too important; you have to be on your best behaviour.
>If you don’t, then everything will be—

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHZGiMzmKQM

>FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKHE’SEARLYFUCKFUCKFUCK
>You jet over to the front door and jet to it fucking fast, nearly falling from these fucking dumb heels!
>Your heart rate has spiked!
>You feel fear in your butthole!
>Yet the only thing you can do is repeat the same thing in your head: “Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm!”
>It only works when you’re about three feet from the door, and you force yourself to take a deep breath.
>With that, it’s only three steps to the door...

>You open it with a welcoming smile, barely hiding the nervousness in your eye as you stare at your visitor.
>He speaks before you can form the first syllable of the word ‘welcome’.
>“Well, Principal Celestia and Vice Principal Luna, I made it — despite your directions.”
>He’s tall, he’s old, and he’s frowning — he’s just as you remembered him.
“Ah! Superintendent Chalmers!” you warmly greet him, your smile tightening. “Welcome! I hope you’re prepared for an unforgettable luncheon!”
>“Yeah,” he says under his breath.
>He doesn’t say ‘excuse me’ when walking between you and the space of the tight doorway.
>You close the front door with a quick breath and turn to see Chalmers studying your foyer with the eyes of a hawk.
>The man found imperfections even in one’s own household.
>“Hm. Where is Principal Celestia?” he asks.
>Think fast think fast think fast…..
“Oh, uh, I’m terribly sorry, sir, but my sister seems to be a victim of, uh, a terrible case of...Naked Big Mouth Fever…”
>Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!
>Superintendent Chalmers turns back to face you with his scrutinizing glare.
>“Did you say…‘Naked Mouth Fever?’”
>Roll with it, Luna, roll with it…
“Why, yes! Terrible disease, really. They can’t be clothed or they’ll suffocate,” you say, leading him into the dining room.
>“Well, I’ve never heard of it,” says Chalmers.
“Well, the sick can’t use their mouths so no one talks about it.”
>“Ah. Of course.”
>As he takes his seat at the table, you quickly step into the kitchen.
>You did some quick thinking there, but hopefully, you’ll—
“GASP!”
>You rush over to the oven, hoping that the meal Celestia spent all morning for the superintendent is at least somewhat salvageable.
>Maybe it can be saved?
>You quickly open the oven and gasp.
“Oh, egads! My roast is ruined!”

>The lump of meat Celestia bought from the butcher down the street was on fire, smoke and flames rising into the kitchen air.
>Panicking, you close just slam the oven shut.
>This is awful.
>Every other visit with the Superintendent had gone awfully for you and your sister; you simply can’t mess this one up!
>As the smoke continues to escape the oven, you walk over to the window so it can air out.
>Then, you see it.
>Right outside, a house or two away and across the street: potential salvation for today’s luncheon.
>Its name is Krusty Burger.
>Yes.
>Yes, you and Celestia’s roast was ruined…
“But...what if I were to fast food and disguise it as our own cooking?” you say, thinking aloud.
>A sinister smile spreads across your face.
“Oh ho, ho! Delightfully devilish, Luna…!” you say to yourself, ever-so connivingly.
>You haven’t felt so deliciously diabolical since Celestia found out about that student you were fucking…
>With little time to waste, you immediately try to raise your leg to crawl out the window.
>HOWEVER…
>...That fucking SKIRT Celestia said hugged your hips, prevents this from being an easy task.
>That and, you know, you and Celestia haven’t gone to the yoga studio for a bit…
>B-but it’s mostly because of the skirt, not your body or age, you swear!
>When your right leg finally is almost out the window, you hear the click of the door.
>“Ms. Luna, I—”
>Superintendent Chalmers stops right in his tracks, going from staring at you to glaring…

https://vocaroo.com/i/s1KXQO77irkn

Luna with her crazy explanations! Superintendent's gonna need his medication! When he hears Luna's lame exaggerations, There'll be trouble in town tonight!

“Superintendent! I was just, uh, just stretching my calves on the windowsill! Isometric exercise!” you say with a false smile. “Care to join me?”
>His peering gaze shifts to the oven...
>“Why is their smoke coming out of your oven, Ms. Luna?”
“Uh? Oh— ”
>You bring down your leg from the windowsill.
“That isn’t smoke. It’s steam. Steam from the steamed clams we’re having! Mmm. Steamed Clams!”
>He stares at you, at your tense smile, judging…
>Then, with a terse nod, he closes the door, walking back to his seat in the dining room.
>You wipe the sweat of your brow and practically JUMP out the window, running over to that Krusty Burger.
>In heels.
>Ouch.
>OW.

MOMENTS LATER

>You walk back inside the dining room with a silver platter and cloche.
>Meanwhile, Chalmers stuffs his napkin in his collar like a bib.
>You always hate it when old people do that.
>Makes you feel weird.
>Nevertheless, you’re the hostess it seems, Celestia hasn’t come downstairs naked, so things must be going smoothly.
>You place the platter down on the table.
“Superintendent? I hope you’re hungry for some mouth-watering hamburgers,” you say eagerly.
>Chalmers squints at the meal, then you as you take your seat.
>“I thought we were having steamed clams.”
“D’oh, no. I said steamed hams,” you laugh. “That’s what I call hamburgers.”
>“...You call hamburgers ‘steamed hams’?”
“Er, yes. It’s a regional dialect.”
>“Uh-huh. What region?”
>You quickly rack your brain for somewhere you once lived that could believably fool this old craggy thing of a man.
>Only one place comes to mind.
>“Uh, upstate New York.”
>Chalmers, though intrigued and engaged with you, remains skeptical.
>“Really? Well, I’m from Utica, and I’ve never heard somebody use the phrase ‘steamed hams.’”
“Oh, not in Utica. No. It’s an Albany expression,” you explain.
>“Ah. I see.”
>He grabs a burger from the platter.
>You, meanwhile, are already sipping down a much-needed glass of wine.
>Celestia was right.
>It is pretty strong…
>“...You know,” begins Chalmers, “these hamburgers are quite similar to the ones they have at Krusty Burger.”

“Oh ho ho, oh no! Sun & Moon Burgers™,” you say, laughing. “Patented family recipe.”
>Chalmers doesn’t seem to laugh, though; in fact, he keeps totally still, his face unmoving.
>He rarely seems human, sometimes, but more like an angry, large reptile, or a curmudgeonly komodo dragon.
>“For steamed hams?” he asks in a stone-cold tone.
“...Yes?”
>“Yes. And you call these steamed hams despite the fact that they are obviously grilled.”
>Before you can ask what he means, he reaches out to show you the grill marks on the patty of his bun.
>You swallow the lump in your throat and find yourself sweating.
“Ye...Ye-you know, the one thing...eh, uh...I should — excuse me for one second.”
>“Mm. Of course.”
>You quickly retreat into the kitchen and HOLY SHIT YOU FORGOT THE ROAST
>...
>Wow, just everything is in flames…
>You know what?
>Fuck this.
>You walk back into the dining room, stretching out your arms and yawning.
“Well, that was wonderful. A good time was had by all. I'm pooped.”
>Chalmers stands up from his seat, looking at his watch.
>“Mm, yes, I suppose — GOOD LORD! WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THERE!?”
>You quickly look over your shoulder and see the door to the kitchen is left slightly ajar, leaving the flaming glow visible to Chalmers.
“Arora Borealis,” you say, not even thinking.
>Suddenly, a fire sparks in Chalmers’ eyes.
>“AURORA BOREALIS!?!? AT THIS TIME OF DAY, AT THIS TIME OF YEAR, LOCALIZED ENTIRELY IN YOUR KITCHEN!?!?!?”
“...Yes.”
>There’s a quiet moment between you and the Superintendent.
>And then?
>The spark in his eyes?
>It weakens.
>“...May I see it?”
“Mmm...No.”

SECONDS LATER

>You open the front door for Superintendent Chalmers; the tension has left your plastered-on smile as he walks out to your porch.
>Then, you hear Celestia screaming from upstairs.
>“LUNA! LUNA, THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE!!!”
>Or maybe it's from the windows...
>Nevertheless, you chuckle.
“No, sister, it’s just the northern lights!”
>You mouth the word ‘delirious’ to Chalmers.
>No doubt he thinks it's from the made-up Naked Mouth Fever your sister has fictitiously fallen victim to.
>“Well, Ms. Luna, you’re an odd one,” he says with a contemplative pout.
>It eases into a gentle smile.
>“But you sure steam a good ham.”
>For a second, as Chalmers walks back to his car, you smile at him, almost fooling yourself into thinking that this /was/ enjoyable.
>That you /did/ steam a good ham, whatever the Hell that means.
>And the strangest part?
>The smile actually stays on your face...
>“LUNA! HEEEEEEEEELP!!!!!!”
>...That is until Chalmers looks back at the house, worried by your sister’s screaming.
>You quickly widen your smile, thrusting out an exaggerated thumbs up to assure him that things are alright.
>Again, he nods, steps into his car, and drives off.
>Wow.
>What an unforgettable luncheon.

END