Breakfast with Chica (Request 11/12)

It took a few months, but Mike and the bots have finally reached an understanding. He and the robots have been getting along very well. Fraternization wasn't in the job description, but whatever makes the night shift go by makes Mike happy.

Tonight, he was making himself dinner.

Spread the dough," Chica said. "This is the first step towards making you a pizza. It's VERY important!"
"Okay, spreading the dough," Mike muttered. He kneaded the pizza dough with his bare hands, rubbing it back and forth.
Chica handed him a rolling pin, which he used to flatten out the dough. Now it looked more like the foundation for a pizza.

"Okay, now let's put some sauce on there," Chica said. She held a tube over the dough, and squeezed it. Mike saw the container crumple like a run over soda can as red stuff shot out of the tube, and covered the dough.

"Add on your toppings.
"Gotcha."
"And don't forget the cheese," Chica scolded. "That's a big part of it."
"Yeah, yeah," Mike muttered as he sprinkled cheese over the pizza. Then he added mushrooms, and some bell peppers."

"Good work, Employee Number 216!", Chica exclaimed. "You're doing great work!", she said joyfully.
"Thanks."


"Good work, Employee. Now it's time to put the meat on!"

Meat? What meat?
"Chica, I'm a vegetarian"

Chica's jaw snapped shut as she grabbed Mike's shoulders, and picked him up in her arms. He struggled. He kicked. But he couldn't find a way out of this. She stared at Mike the whole time, her cross-eyed gaze piercing the heart of his very soul. She opened the door and shoved him into the oven with little thought, and when he pounded on the inside all Chica did was wave her hand, back and forth.

She was always a fan of the skin.