Creative Cooking with a Focus on Pudding - Thursday 3rd Period
At first glance, the classroom seemed as though it were finally a normal room. The walls were clean, no delicious smells wafted across the threshold. But at the back of the room, it seemed that all of the usual weirdness had been concentrated into one bizarre device.
"Today we are making ice cream!" He bounced up and down the rows of workstations, scattering hand-outs in a generally student-based direction, rather than actually handing them out.
"The base recipes on your desks should each yield about a gallon of your brand new creations. You will also notice some guidelines for how to add in your mix-ins. This way, you will have flavours to use in upcoming lessons." He coughed the next sentence into his hand. An entire sentence is a bit long to hide in a stage-cough, but he went for it anyway.
"Kah-perhaps in next week's lesson on drinkable sweets-uoff koff!"
Fake coughing fit over, he continued normally. Relatively normally. For him. "No flavours are off the table for these ice creams, but we will be eating them, so do please try not to make them unfit for human - or llama- consumption. And if you make something positively dreadful, perhaps you can convince a fellow student to share theirs with you."
"When you've finished mixing your mixes, come to the back of the room, and we will freeze it." His expression darkened for a moment. "But do not attempt to operate this machine without me. I have no interest in consuming finger-flavoured ice cream, and you will find it very difficult to cook with permanently frozen hands."
His eyes swept across the room, making sure that each student had heard him. Then he smiled, pulled on a pair of thick gloves, and gave the tanks of the machine a quick pat. Time to make perfectly normal ice cream. Nothing odd or strange about it. Except perhaps a slight carbonation.