You and Laughing Jack had been lounging on the couch, flipping through the channels without much interest. The dim light of the TV flickered across the room, casting shadows on the walls as you both watched yet another show neither of you particularly cared for. The quiet was comfortable, broken occasionally by Jack’s offhanded comments about how boring human entertainment could be.

But then, something shifted.

Out of nowhere, Jack bolted upright, his mismatched eyes gleaming with excitement. His black-and-white striped sleeves flailed dramatically as he turned to you, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“We should bake a cake!” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with mischief, as if he’d just suggested robbing a bank instead of baking.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his sudden burst of energy. “Bake a cake? Right now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course, right now! The best ideas are the ones you don’t think through, darling!” He clapped his hands together, already halfway to the kitchen before you could even process what was happening.

You followed reluctantly, knowing full well that nothing Jack did ever turned out normal. By the time you entered the kitchen, he had already pulled out a mismatched assortment of ingredients—flour, eggs, sugar—and some items that absolutely didn’t belong in a cake.

“Uh, Jack, why do you have—” you paused, staring at the jar of hot sauce and bag of gummy worms he had proudly displayed on the counter.

“Don’t worry about the details,” he said with a wave of his hand, already cracking eggs into a bowl with reckless abandon. “Cooking is about creativity, and I’m a creative genius.”

You sighed but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.