This is a very random change for me. I am used to staying on the topics of the Cirque Du Freak, but I just started typing this one for Chowder. Even though I have seen seriously harsh criticism for Chowder stories, I wrote one anyways. This is a little story about how Shnitzel *my favorite!* reminisces on a past memory of Chowder that actually caused the grumpy, yet amazing, rock monster to cry. I reeeaaalllly hope you enjoy this and please don't whip my 'radda' with your reviews!

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Chowder and Shnitzel and Mung's kitchen, but sadly it belongs to Cartoon Network!

Sweep. Sweep.

Another long day had gone by for Shnitzel. Another long day of being annoyed by Chowder, and pushed around by Mung. Well, he wasn't actually pushed around, just ordered to do a lot of random tasks. Of course, he had signed up to do these things over ten years ago, but that didn't mean they didn't bother him from time to time.

Mung Daal was no ordinary chef, and with an unordinary chef came and extrordinarily unordinary kitchen. Everyday was a new adventure for Shnitzel, though at the end of the day, somethings were still the same.

Sweep. Sweep.

Sweep this, un-clog that, rolling pin over the head from Truffles every once in a while, and then...there was Chowder. It was a year after he had taken on the job as sous chef in Mung Daal's kitchen that Chowder came along. Nobody knew where he had came from, or what he really was for that matter. All Shnitzel knew was that Mung had wanted to keep him since he first laid eyes on the lavender bundle of pudge.

After all, Truffles and Mung were unable to have children of there own. Without hesitation they brought him inside. The first thing the little bugger scarfed down, and then spit back up on Shnitzel, Mung, and Truffles, was an entire pot of brocco-bean chowder. Chowder. That is how he got his name. "He looks like a Chowder." Mung had said.

Scrub. Scrub

Shnitzel was weary of having a child around the kitchen since the business was so busy, but nothing would break Chowder away from the hearts of Mung and Truffles. Though he was happy for his boss, having a child around meant even more tasks for Shnitzel.

Changing diapers from time to time, waking up to check on him, feeding, playtime, running down to the store for a huge supply of food. Who knew a baby could eat up an entire stock of food?

Scrub. Sigh. Scrub

The first year with Chowder went smoother than Shnitzel could've imagined. Since one of Mung's cooking companions had just opened a company in Marzipan as well, Chowder had a little girl to play with. Her name was Panini, and she was a brat. Even to this day Shnitzel was still amazed at how infatuated she was with Chowder, when as a baby, she knocked out one of his teeth on purpose.

Shnitzel would grumble a silent 'radda' to himself whenever Chowder would burst into the kitchen complaining of the kisses and hand-holdings Panini would torture him with, but inside he would be smiling.

Clank. Clonk

Shnitzel put a few pots underneath the sink, and grinned. Chowder was a very energetic three year old, especially since he was at least twenty pounds lighter back then. "Pway hide n' seek with me snittle!" Chowder would beg, and somehow manage to float around Shnitzel's head while he scrubbed the dishes.

"Radda radda!" Shnitzel would panic and yank him out of the air before he went up too high. "Pweese! Find me snittle!" he'd giggle. Shnitzel put down his plate and went to shake a finger at Chowder, but he was gone. "Radda! Rad-radda?"

Silence.

Shnitzel sat back onto a small stool and thought. He remembered he spent two hours looking for Chowder. Inside and out he searched for him. Not in the refrigerator, not in the ovens, not in the furnace. He scanned over every nook and cranny of Mung's abode, nothing. Not even the Thrice Cream man had seen him, and he was normally fighting Chowder off with a stick at this time of day.

Tears, revealing the rarest emotion from Shnitzel, flowed down his smooth rock face as he called for Chowder. Mung and Truffles would be back from the Marzipan annual hoe-down at anytime. Hearts would break. Shnitzel plopped down on a small wooden stool in front of the drippy sink and cried...then the creak of a tiny door snapped him back.

Laughing.

Shnitzel remembered the look on Chowder's face in the tiny crack of the sink cabinet, confused and covered in remains of green grapple berry jam. Shnitzel leaned over and held out his hand, which Chowder took and waddled out. He pulled him onto his lap and smiled as the little food fanatic licked clean the food that had stained his apron that day, and the day before.

That was last last time, for a long time, he ever showed tears around him, or emotion for that matter. "Whatcha doin' Shnitzel?" a voice from across the room asked. Shnitzel focused back to reality and on the pudgy boy in front of him. "Radda radda radda." Shnitzel mumbled while he stood and walked towards the hook in the wall. He removed his apron and placed it on the wall. He sighed, turned back around and began walking to his room when suddenly...

Slurp. Chomp. Mmmmm.

He turned back. His apron was gone. Chowder was next to the once occupied hook, floating a little off the ground with satisfaction. "RADDA!" Shnitzel waved his big hands in the air. It was a weekly, almost daily thing for him, yelling at Chowder for the consumtion of his apron. "I'm sorry Schnitzel! It just looked so tasty, stained with food and memories past!" he gave a watery-eyed look to the stuffy rock monster.

Shnitzel stopped. The flash back of the little orphaned mystery child suckling on the staind white fabric hit him, and he smiled. Not one of his normal rarely seen grins, but a real smile. Chowder cocked his head, "Oook, I'ma just go to the fridge now. G'night Snittle-I mean Shnitzel! Oops, sorry." he chuckled and ran, slowly, over to the fridge. After grabbing a comically large piece of ham he looked back at Shnitzel with wonder before running, slowly, back up the stairs.

Shnitzel thought for another moment. Maybe eating his apron for the ninth time this month brought back the same memory he had been reflecting on. Maybe. Shnitzel shook his head, wondering for a moment why the memory took so long to surface, and with once last mumbled 'radda', headed to the comfort of his room for a well deserved sleep.

Chowder plopped onto his bed with a loud pffff sound following. "Uh, was that me or you Kimchi?" he asked with a pensive look. Pff! Answered the brown cloud with big eyes. "That's what I thought! Excuse me." he blushed, before taking a shovel-mouthed bite out of the ham. A few seconds later a rumble in his tummy stopped him mid-bite.

The apron was just now starting to act up as it usually did. In a few hours the apron would see the light of day. "I wonder if Shnitzel remembers the first time I ate his apron? Every time I eat one the memory comes back all blurry. I think Shnitzel cried that night. Not sure why though. I guess 'cause he wasted all of that delicious food on him. He was a lot different back then. Maybe because then he use to go to the bathroom. Not anymore I guess. Oh well."

Chowder shrugged and laid back in bed, the thought of that fuzzy memory putting him in to deep sleep, much like it did for Shnitzel at that very same moment.


A/N: I choked my own self up at the end. Lame I know, but whatever! I hope you liked the story. Not as lively as the show but a small, hidden side to the vivaciousness of Marzipan.