"Done!" Penny shouted, springing up from her kneeling position in front of the now-empty pie plate. For the fifth time that evening, she had beaten her friends—and more specifically Dr. Sheldon Cooper—at another so-called "game." She gasped for breath, having literally inhaled blueberry goo for what seemed like five solid minutes, and watched as Sheldon, Amy, and Leonard rose up from their unfinished pies, grumbling through full mouths. Normally, she would have whooped a victory shout, or high-fived her teammate, or at least laughed at the ridiculousness of everyone's berry-smeared faces. After all, she was the pit bull in a room full of Chihuahuas.
But she wasn't taking much pleasure in her victory. She'd proven herself the better picture-drawer, math solver, and wrestler, and now she had Champion Pie-Eater on her list of titles. And all she felt was tired, bored, and stuffed to her gills in gelatinous fruit filling and crust. She exhaled heavily, puffing out her lips and groaning slightly. All that just because she wanted Sheldon to admit that while he was better at book-y, science-y stuff, Penny was better at practical things that normal people did.
But, as he had done four times before that evening, Sheldon found some way to cast aspersion on her victory. He'd already claimed the pie contest was tainted because he'd aspirated a berry up his nose, and now, his incredulity showing through the mess on his face, he refused to accept defeat.
"I challenge that!" he whined, standing up from the floor. "How can we prove you were the first to scarf down that pie? All of us were up to our earlobes in blueberries!"
"Sheldon," Penny retorted, lifting the plate with only a smear of filling and few crumbs on it. "The plate is empty. My mouth is empty. My stomach…" She stopped, suppressing a gurgle from her throat. "…is going to explode. Admit it; you're not the best at everything."
"Well this doesn't prove any superiority in aptitude or skill," Sheldon snapped, his indignant expression only somewhat obscured. "It just proves that, as always, you have an inhuman capacity to consume mass quantities of food or drink in an unhealthy and reckless manner."
"Whaddaya—BURP—mean, as always?" Penny shot back, stepping towards Sheldon so as to maximize the effect of her belch on his sense of propriety.
"You eat like a pig at the trough," he said, leaning into her space. "It's a miracle you still fit in the apartment!"
Now she was pissed. He had gone too far. She'd grown a thick skin when it came to his deprecating comments about her lack of academic success, her low-paying job, her messy apartment, or her checkered relationship history. But she would be damned if she let him call her a pig, or worse, imply that she would get fat. She was a lot of things, but she would never be fat like her mom.
"SHELDON!" she bellowed, her exasperation showing as bits of berry flew out her mouth. "You know what? Fine! You're right. I have no skill. I'm a dumb blonde waitress who knows what a cookie looks like, how to divide, and yes, I eat like a pig and drink like a fish. And even if my butt is getting too big for my skinny jeans, at least I'm not the freaking Noble Prize winner for WORLD'S BIGGEST ASS!"
She turned and charged out the door, still dripping with pie filling. The others looked at Sheldon with shock and disgust.
"Sheldon, she's right, you are being an ass," Leonard said, shaking his head. "Once again, you've turned a harmless game of Pictionary into an episode of Game of Thrones."
"It wasn't my idea to play Pictionary," Sheldon interjected. "As you recall, I had suggested the uproariously fun and exciting Physics Fiesta, which many great men have played…or would have played, had I been around to invent it."
"Whatever," Leonard sighed, waving off Sheldon. "You need to go apologize, after you clean up first."
"Yes, Sheldon, it was very rude of you to attack her like that." Amy chimed in for the first time, blinking as juice ran down her cheek. "No woman wants to be called a pig."
"It was merely an analogy; I wasn't saying she really was a member of the suidae family." Sheldon intoned, matter-of-factly. "I was just pointing out that gluttony is not a skill, but a vice. She'll thank me later."
"Oh, Sheldon, I don't want to be around you when you're like this. I'm going over there to comfort my best friend. Good night, Sheldon." Amy turned towards the door, then to the bathroom. "Right after I clean off my face. May I use the bath sink to wash up?"
"Sure," Leonard replied, motioning toward the bath. "There's some towels in the closet."
"Thank you, Leonard." She strode in her awkward gait towards the hall, giving her boyfriend one last glare before disappearing in the bathroom.
"Amy," Sheldon said quietly, turning towards his girlfriend. Amy stopped, and looked at him, still annoyed.
"Yes, Sheldon?" she said, expecting him to address her frustration.
"Please don't use any of the white towels on the second shelf, or my Green Lantern bath towel; Blueberry juice is impossible to get out of cotton." He turned back to the table and began gathering the pie plates to put in the sink.
Amy harrumphed and stomped into the bathroom, while Leonard shook his head, licking blueberries from his lips.