Well, I had to post something for my birthday ^-^ And for those of you wondering, yes, I'm still working on my other stories. In fact, the GZE chapter is finished, but it's being edited at the moment so you'll have to wait a little bit longer.

I'm going to try to update this once a week or every other week, but since I'll be starting college in the fall (hopefully), I don't know how well that idea is going to pan out. Those of you who know me know I've gotten terrible at updating :P One-shots generally take me about a day to do, so this shouldn't interfere with my other stories.

As far as pairings go, don't expect a whole lot. I prefer friendship, even between Danny and Sam. However, there will be some pairing oriented shots, and these will range anywhere from DxS to DxV, to (maybe) DPxDF. But if a pairing makes you squirmish, don't worry. I will place the pairing at the top of the page, so if you don't like it, feel free to skip that week.

I probably won't be able to do all one hundred, but I'll give it a shot. Advice on improving my writing is greatly appreciated, as always, but please don't be rude and please don't flame.

Pairings: None, unless you count mentions of Sam's feelings for Danny as DxS.
This week's apple: Number 46: Baking.
Summary: In home economics, Tucker and Danny are told to bake a cake. The teachers should know better than to pair those two together when food is involved…
Warning: …Um, a sexist attitude?
Genre: Humor/Friendship

I don't own Danny Phantom. Technically, the teacher belongs to me, but I don't care about her. Use her if you want.

Danny drummed his fingers against the countertop, and the dull tap-tap-tap-tap created a steady rhythm to the Dumpty Humpty song he had stuck in his head. A tap-tip-tap soon joined his beat, adding a new dimension to the cadence. Danny glanced at his best friend, and smiled when he saw Tucker tapping the countertop with his pencil. Tucker returned the expression, but he added a quirked eyebrow. Danny, not one to back down, answered the unspoken challenge by humming softly. As the two reached the chorus, Tucker used his other hand to beat against his leg.

Seconds away from reaching Jonathan's awesome guitar solo, a great SNAP destroyed their tempo and made the boys jump. Danny was so startled, his jump caused his chair to overbalance. Their classmates burst out laughing, and Danny blushed in embarrassment. He quickly climbed back into his seat, but the damage was already done to his reputation.

Their teacher lifted the yard stick from Danny's desk, smirking in satisfaction. "Serves you boys right," she said. "This is Home Economics, not music class. If I catch you goofing off again, I'll be forced to give you detention—and you and I would both hate it if we have to spend more than our allotted hour together."

The two boys blinked stupidly at her.

She growled. "I'll make this simple. If I catch you two playing around in this classroom again, I'll have you lazy yokels scrubbing every inch of my kitchen!" She turned sharply on her heel, and made her way to the front of the class again.

After she'd returned to her lecture and the class stopped paying attention to them, Tucker leaned towards Danny and whispered, "Dude, did she just call us 'lazy yokels'?"

Danny nodded dumbly. "I think she did. What are yokels?"

"No clue…"

"I bet Sam would know if she were here…"

"I bet she'd blame the word usage on Ms. Loretta's sexist issues."

"If that's true and she is sexist, how are we even passing?"

Tucker flashed Danny a wide, white smile. "Not even that sexist witch can resist my charms, Danny!"

Danny smirked, and leaned his cheek against his propped up hand. "There are ten girls in this class, Tucker, and we're the only guys. If no girl can resist your charms, how come you haven't got a date yet?"

Tucker flinched, before scowling and muttering something too quiet for Danny to hear.


"I said, it's because you keep stealing all the girls!" he whispered.

Danny drew back, blinking in surprise. "What?" He frowned. "What are you talking about, Tucker? I haven't even talked to half these girls!"

"And yet they keep on falling for you!"

"They are not!"

"They are too!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Prove it!"


"Fenton! Foley!"

Danny and Tucker jumped, recoiling away from their counters. But the sound of a large stick striking metal didn't reach their ears and they slowly opened their eyes. Three counters away, at the front of the class, their teacher raised an eyebrow at their odd behavior.

Danny smiled nervously. "Y-yes, Ms. Loretta?"

"Turn to page 324 in your Home Economics book. You and Mr. Foley are baking a cake today."

"Us?" Danny asked.

"Bake a cake?" Tucker added, equally incredulous.

"By ourselves?"

"That is what you are here for, isn't it?" Ms. Loretta demanded. "To learn how to bake?"

Half a classroom away, and Loretta's angered presence was still enough to make Danny and Tucker cringe away from her. "Yes, ma'am," they said.

"Good." She returned to calling out groups.

Danny and Tucker looked at each other, flinching in unison.

"I don't suppose you know how to bake a cake?" Danny asked his best friend.

"I know how to charm my mom into making me a cake…" Tucker answered. "You?"

"Jazz usually handles the normal necessities like suppers and birthday parties." Danny pulled his book towards him, and opened to the directed page. "I guess we'll just have to follow the instructions."

"Easier said than done, dude." Tucker tapped his finger below the tsp. symbol. "What does that even mean?"

Danny scratched his head. "Um, I think it means tablespoon…"

Tucker groaned, and dropped his head onto the countertop. "It would be so much easier to get a date with a girl if Ms. Wichita actually paired us up with the opposite sex. I'm always stuck with you in this class!"

"Normally, I'd be insulted, but this time, I agree with you. How the heck does she expect us to bake a cake without a girl's knowledge? They're, like, bred for this stuff!"

"It's a conspiracy! She knows why we signed up for this dumb class, Danny. She knows…"

"No, she knows why you signed up," Danny corrected. "I'm here because my best friend insisted he needed a wingman."

"Yeah, but you've turned out to be a terrible wingman. You're supposed to send the ladies my way, not gather your own entourage."

Danny rolled his eyes. "We're back to that? You're being ridiculous, Tuck. None of these girls like me."

"Oh yeah?" Tucker lifted his head, and searched the room. He pointed to Natasha, a geeky redhead with braces and a lot of freckles. "Go ask her for a cup of sugar."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "But…we have sugar, Tuck. Why would I—"

"Just go ask her, clueless!"

Danny pouted, but snatched up a measuring cup. "I'm not clueless…" he muttered to himself, walking off towards Natasha's station. Tucker must have heard, because he chuckled and shook his head at his friend's obliviousness.

Natasha's partner, a brunet named Amanda, spotted Danny walking towards them, and she quickly elbowed her friend. Natasha looked at her, and Amanda answered her silent question by pointing at Danny. Natasha's eyes widened, but she smiled at Danny when he reached their counter.

Danny smiled back. "Uh, hey, Natasha. Hey, Amanda."

"Hey, Danny," they said.

"What brings you over here?" Natasha asked.

Danny held up his white measuring cup. "Tucker sent me over to get some sugar."

Natasha glanced over at his and Tucker's counter, frowning slightly. "Don't you have sugar?"

"Yeah, but something must be wrong with it, because Tucker was really insistent I get some from you guys—er, girls."

Amanda and Natasha shared a look, and then burst out in giggles.

Danny blinked. "What?"

Natasha took the cup from his hands, smiling oddly at him. "It's nothing, Danny. Just a cup right?"

"Yup. Oh, and what does t-s-p stand for?"


"…Oh…" Danny blushed and rubbed his neck, thinking, Whew, that was close.

Natasha turned around to get the sugar, giggling softly. Amanda leaned towards Danny, staring eagerly, almost creepily into his eyes. "So has Goth Girl made her move yet?"

Danny leaned back, blinking. "What? What move?" His eyes widened. "Sam's moving? Why haven't I heard of this?"

"Easy there, Danny," Natasha said, turning back around. "Sam's not going anywhere. It's just an inside joke."

"Oh." Danny pointed at the full cup of sugar in her hands. "Is that my sugar?"

"Uh." Natasha blushed, and jerked the cup out to him, the motion sending some of the crystals over the edge. "Yes. Here."

Danny took the cup, and flashed the girls a grateful smile. "Thanks. See you later."

"Yeah…bye, Danny."

Danny waved his hand as he turned around and made his way back to his own station. He heard Amanda say something about brunets, but she spoke too quietly for him to hear. He shrugged. They were odd, but then, all girls except for Sam were a mystery to him.

Well, he amended, Sam is a mystery sometimes too, but she's like one of the guys! …If I said that to her face she'd probably kill me…

Tucker grinned at Danny once he reached their counter. "So…"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"How did it go?"

Danny set the cup of sugar on the countertop. "I got the sugar. What was wrong with ours, by the way?"

Tucker frowned. "That's it? Just the sugar? You didn't get her phone number or anything?"

"No…" Danny blinked. "Was I supposed to get her phone number for you? Is that what a wingman would do?"

Tucker face-palmed. "My gosh, Danny, you are clueless."

Danny glared. "Hey! I'm still new to this wingman stuff!"

"I don't mean that!" Tucker sighed, and looked up at the ceiling forlornly. "Where did I go wrong with him? I taught him everything I know, and yet he turned out like this…"

Danny wrinkled his nose, eyeing his best friend warily. "You're…acting weird, dude. …Are you being overshadowed?

"What? Of course not!"

"Then can we just bake the cake already?"

Tucker shrugged. "Might as well. Clearly nothing else is going to happen in this class…And it might be fun…"

Danny chuckled. "If Loretta heard you say that, she'd kick you out of her kitchen for suspicious behavior."

"Good thing she didn't hear it then."

"True." Danny pulled the cooking book towards him, and read a few of the instructions. "Alright. It says we first have to get a large mixing bowl."

Tucker bent down, and reached into the cupboard beneath their counter. He pulled out two bowls. "Red one or blue one?"
"Does it matter?"

"I guess not." He put the blue one away, and placed the red one on the counter. "Next?"

"Um, 'pour in two cups of all purpose flour'," Danny read.

Tucker cocked his head to the side. "Is there another purpose for flour?"

"I once dumped a bag of flour over myself when I was eight," Danny said slowly. "Dad saw me, shouted GHOST, and brought out his prototype ecto-gun…Does that count?"

Tucker winced. He reached out a hand, and patted Danny's shoulder. "That's rough, dude."

His best friend shrugged; the present had numbed the pain from the past. Danny opened the flour container, and measured out a cup. Tucker watched him pour the fluffy whiteness into the bowl with large, unblinking eyes. Danny repeated the process, and when he poured the last cup into the bowl, Tucker sighed in relief.

"This isn't so bad. We can totally do this!"

"Yeah," Danny agreed, smiling, "so far so good. Next is one, one half cup of sugar." He snatched the acquired cup of sugar off the counter, and dumped it into the bowl. He frowned questionably at Tucker "…Should I get a half cup from Natasha and Amanda, too?"

Tucker rolled his eyes. "No. Our sugar will do."

"If our sugar was fine, why did you make me get some from them?"

"A misguided attempt to help my friend overcome his issues," Tucker responded curtly. "Pour in another cup of sugar already."

"But the book says to only add another half cup."

"So? It's sugar!" Tucker waved his hands around. "How can sugar ruin anything?"

Danny grinned. "We'll have the sweetest cake in the class!"

"You bet!"

Danny dumped another cup of sugar into the bowl.

"'Half cup of shortening'," Tucker read. He frowned. "What the heck is shortening?"

"I don't know," Danny said. "Is it supposed to make you shrink?"

"Who wants that? Leave it out?"

"Leave it out."

"'Three and a half t-s-p of baking soda'…Are you sure that means tablespoons?"

Danny brows furrowed, thinking back. "Um, actually, I think Natasha said it was something else…"


"…Uh, what's that other measuring spoon?"

"…I don't know!" Tucker threw up a hand. "Do I look like the kind of guy who would know? Why don't you go and ask a girl what it means?"

"Me?" Danny asked incredulously. "Why me?"

"Because the girls actually like you!"

"Don't start that again!"

"It's true!"

"It is not!"

"Problem, boys?"

Danny gasped, startled into another jump. His hand knocked against the bowl, and it would have fallen off the counter, if Tucker hadn't jumped forward and caught it. Both boys sighed in relief. They flashed each other triumphant grins, but Ms. Loretta, standing over them, frowned disapprovingly.

"Be careful!" she hissed.

"Sorry, Ms. Loretta," the boys said meekly.

"By the way, teach," Tucker said before Loretta could turn away. "What does t-s-p stand for?"

Loretta scowled. "You would already know the answer to that if you actually paid attention in my class." She walked away, leaving the boys to gape after her without an answer.

"Now that," Danny said slowly, "is one mean teacher…"

"Uh-huh…" Tucker agreed.

Danny rubbed his neck, and asked hesitantly, "What do we do now?"

"We'll use tablespoons," Tucker responded, like it was obvious. "As they say, you're first guess is your best guess…or something like that." He pulled a tablespoon out of the drawer, and started measuring out the suspected amount of baking soda.

"I don't know, Tuck," Danny said hesitantly. "I have a bad feeling about this…"

Tucker scoffed, rolling his eyes. "We're baking a cake, Danny. What's the worst that can happen? Worst case scenario, the Lunch Lady makes an appearance and gets in a fight with Ms. Grouch-a-lot…Actually, that'd be totally awesome!" Tucker laughed, imagining the fight. Danny smiled. "Now where's the vinegar? Mom's secret ingredient for everything is vinegar…"


Danny fought evil ghosts on a regular basis, but somehow Ms. Loretta's shouts always made him jump. It made no sense to him! And because the floor was covered in slippery foam, when he landed on his feet, he instantly lost his footing and fell on his butt with splash. Tucker managed to avoid Danny's fate by clinging desperately to the countertop, but his feet did a funny dance over the slick tiles.

Danny pointed a finger at his best friend. "He did it!"

"Lies!" Tucker shouted. He regained his balance, and pointed a finger of his own at Danny. "I'm innocent! Danny's the one who thought t-s-p meant tablespoons!"

"But Tucker was the one who wanted to add the vinegar!"

"And Danny didn't stop me!"

"That explains the foam," Ms. Loretta growled, her voice strained, "but not the flour or the eggs!"

Tucker grimaced as egg yolk slid down his face. "Danny threw eggs at me because he's in some serious denial."

"That's not true!" Danny objected. "I threw eggs at him, because Tucker dumped the flour over m-m-m—ACHOO!" Danny sneezed, and the force of the blast sent his head colliding with the bottom cabinets. The force made the white powder waft off Danny's hair and float around his head. "Ow…"

"But I only dumped the flour over him because I got frustrated with the cake and his cluelessness!"

"I'm not clueless!"

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm not!"

"If you're not clueless, then how come you haven't noticed all the moves Sam has made?"

"What moves?"

"You would know if you weren't so clueless!"

"I'm not clueless!"

"Yes you are! And you're a terrible wingman!"

"I never even wanted to be your wingman!"

"Good because you suck at it!"

"And you suck at baking!"

"Like you're any better!"



Sorry about the crappy ending. I kinda lost inspiration for it :P

I'm not implying guys can't cook—my brother is the second best cook in the family (I'm the first ;D *Mother clears throat* …What?) and my dad cooks us dinner every night, so, no, guys are capable of being excellent cooks…but my sister's old love interest couldn't even make macaroni! He made all the water evaporate, and he burned the noodles! It kinda goes the other way too, though. My sister is…*shakes head* Let's just say, it's a good thing they never hooked up.

I got the idea about using vinegar in the cake from my (old) next door neighbor. No, she didn't use it in every recipe—she used it for every home remedy. Aww, you scraped your knee? Here, put some vinegar on it. Your dog has fleas? Vinegar will kill those suckers in no time! One time, I got head lice, and she told my mom to wash my hair with vinegar. Did it work? ...Yup! I never used another girl's hairbrush ever again. *Shudders*
Bottom line, Vinegar and cake does not mix well...

Natasha and Amanda are actually characters from the show; I just gave them names. You can see them at the end of Flirting with Disaster.

That's it for now! Leave a review, please! Hope it was funny. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go eat some cake 8D

~Happy birthday to me! I'm a hundred and three...dah, dah, dah, dah dah...and I want my mommy!~ I forgot the song T.T