#I am also leaving out buttons for veth. to be clear I am ALSO doing that

[revvethasmythh]

don't forget to leave treats out for the nein on this Mighty Nein Eve! I'm leaving high quality paper and ink out for Caleb <3

[mnemememory]

i’m going to need you to go to hell

critical role cutthroat kitchen au

“In this case, I have $150,000 of cold, hard cash. Six chefs get $25,000 each. If they want to leave this kitchen with any money, they have to survive three of my culinary challenges. And each other.” A small smile plays over Jester’s face as she stares down the camera. “In this game, sabotage isn’t only encouraged – it’s for sale.”

Jester always loves this part. With a dramatic flourish of her hand, the curtains behind her open to reveal her next round of victims. Participants. Whatever.

“Welcome – to Cutthroat Kitchen.”

.

“Ah, hi. My name is Yasha. I like cooking.”

There’s a pause as the cameraman waits for her to continue. Yasha continues to stare blankly at the camera, face indifferent.

The cameraman clears his throat. “What sort of cooking do you prefer?”

“Oh, you know,” Yasha says. She doesn’t elaborate.

.

Jester stands to the side of her table, arms crossed.

In front of her are five people – chefs, supposedly. Jester hadn’t looked too hard at their credentials. After all, just because they could sauté a shrimp didn’t mean they could do it in handcuffs. Being a bad cook was more entertaining for their program’s target audience, not less.

No, Jester had specifically chosen these people because of how explosive this was going to be.

(Also, she had gotten them all really, really drunk).

From the back of the set, someone gives Jester the go-ahead.

She clears her throat. “Hi! Welcome everyone, hope you’re having a great day. I’m having a wonderful day. I guess we should get started with the rules – now I know you all had to tick a box saying that you’d read and understood the terms and conditions outlined in your contract, but no one actually reads those. Firstly – I am Jester Lavorre! Otherwise known as the really famous Lady Fancypants McGee!”

She pauses. There’s a confused pause, and then everyone gives some mumbled version of “Hi, Jester.”

“Now, you five will be enduring – I’m sorry, participating in three rounds of cooking! I’m going to be assigning the dish. You have sixty seconds to shop for your essential ingredients in our Cutthroat Kitchen pantry. After that – well.”

Jester smiles at them. It is not a nice smile.

“We’re going to have an auction.”

.

“I’m Beauregard Lionett,” Beau says, sprawled out over the provided chair. Her foot is hooked around the side and digging slightly into the sheet background. “And I’m going to win Cutthroat Kitchen. I spent years training under the members of the Cobalt Soul – I’ve seen things. Horrible things. I can’t be scared anymore.”

There’s a sigh. Off-camera, someone mutters almost too low for the mic to pick up: “Why do we always get the crazy ones?”

“Don’t blame me, man. Jester’s the head of scouting.”

Louder: “What’s your specialty?”

Beau tilts her head to the side, thinking about it. “Anything that’s not sweets, really.”

.

“And for our first round, you’ll all be making – cupcakes!”

Jester splays out her fingers and wriggles them around. Behind her, a curtain opens to reveal a massive platter of multi-coloured cupcakes. She grabs one and bites into it, getting frosting on her nose. When she grins, her teeth are stained blue.

“Okay, are you all ready?”

Everyone nods.

Jester moves out of the way of the pantry, leaning up against the island table. “On your marks,” she says slowly. The contestants shift their grocery baskets around in their grips. “Get set…”

She waits.

And waits.

And takes another bite out of her cupcake.

“Go!” she yells, mouth still full and spraying crumbs everywhere.

And they’re off – Beau gets there the fastest, shoving Fjord aside when he tries to duck in before her. Veth is next, hopping nimbly over Fjord’s fallen form and dashing inside. Fjord scrambles to his feet and starts shoving as much food into his basket as he can, elbowing Beau when she goes for more icing sugar. Caleb ducks the flying limbs and goes to grab the chilli powder. Yasha stands at her table, looking horribly lost.

Caduceus just walks.

“Ten,” Jester cheers. “Nine! Eight!”

Caduceus walks out, basket full, smile mild.

“Seven! Six!”

Caleb rushes away from the dangerous elbows and back to his station. His basket doesn’t look anywhere near as well-stocked at Caduceus’, but there are enough ingredients that he could theoretically make something.

“Five!”

Beau lunges past the doors and falls face-first onto the ground, basket spilling everywhere. She rolls onto her feet and makes a flying leap for the bag of self-raising flour that Caleb is bending to pick up.

“Four! Three! Two!”

Veth sprints out, tripping Fjord onto the ground.

“One!”

With a maniacal laugh, Jester slams the pantry door shut on Fjord’s face. He gives a loud groan and stares rolls over to stare up at the ceiling.

“Well, well, well,” Jester says. She’s finished her first cupcake and is onto her second one. There is now pink icing on her fingertips. “Looks like I’ve caught a fly in my web!”

Fjord gets up and resignedly holds out his basket for inspection. Jester winches the door open once more and stands in front of him, stroking a finger along a non-existent moustache.

“What are you taking from me,” he says.

“I think – hmm, it’ll be difficult to make cupcakes without milk!” Jester says, grabbing the carton and shoving it randomly onto a shelf. Fjord just shakes his head and walks away.

Jester turns around and claps her hands.

“Now for the fun part! Let’s talk sabotages.”

.

“My name is Caleb Widogast,” Caleb says, not blinking. “I am thirty-three. I was born in the Zemni Fields. I have a cat called Frumpkin –”

“Oh, um, no,” the cameraman says. “You’re introducing yourself with regards to cooking –”

“My best friend is named Veth,” Caleb says. “She is also competing. She is very good at cooking.”

“Oh boy,” the cameraman says under his breath. “Well – what about you? What do you like to cook?”

“I like to set things on fire,” Caleb says.

.

“Starting bid for the hook is…?”

“One hundred dollars,” Beau says quickly.

“Two hundred,” Veth says.

Jester grins and waves the plastic pirate hook around to each person as they bid.

“Three hundred,” Beau says.

Veth narrows her eyes. “Five hundred dollars.”

“Six hundred and fifty dollars,” Beau says, teeth clenched.

“Seven hundred dollars,” Veth says.

Jester is watching them go back and forth in delight, head bouncing around like a Ping-Pong ball. When Beau fails to respond, she starts talking.

“Okay, so – seven hundred dollars – going once – going twice – sold! To the halfling with the shiny buttons!”

Veth puffs out her chest and goes up to deposit the money into Jester’s grabby hands and collect her prize.

“They are very shiny, aren’t they?” she says. Then she takes a good look at her competitors.

Beau is scowling into her basket, annoyed at having lost. Veth feels no regrets about having spent so much money on the first item. She knows exactly who she’s giving this to.

“Captain Tusktooth,” Veth says, tipping him an imaginary captain’s hat. “I believe this belongs to you.”

Fjord jerks the hook out of her hands angrily and glares at her. Veth gives a contented sigh and goes back to her designated spot, just next to Caleb.

.

“I’m Chef Brenatto, from Felderwin,” Veth says. She’s standing on her chair rather than sitting in it, smiling wide with sharp teeth. “And these punks are going down.”

“What do you like to cook, Chef Brenatto?” the cameraman says, sounding resigned.

“Oh, everything,” Veth says. Her dress has a lot of buttons on it, sewn heavy along her skirt. “But my favourite things are rats. I’ve tried to cook my friend Caleb’s cat once or twice – he always gets away from me, the sneaky good-for-nothing – but nothing beats a good roasted rat.”

.

“Next up, we have this lovely cement mixer! If you win this bid, you can give this to whoever you like to substitute for their mixing bowl and stirring utensils. Don’t worry, it’s perfectly sanitary. Probably. In any case, I’m not the one who has to eat it, so.”

“Oh no,” Beau says, staring at it.

Jester’s smile is positively evil. “Oh, yes. Starting bids!”

“One thousand dollars!” Fjord says, eyes wide with panic.

“One thousand five hundred!” Beau says.

“One thousand six hundred,” Veth says.

Fjord turns towards them both. “I am not getting this cement mixed on top of a pirate hook. One thousand eight hundred dollars.”

Veth smiles at him daintily. “Two thousand.”

“Three thousand,” Fjord says through gritted teeth.

Veth stares at him with narrowed eyes, and then gives a huff and shrugs it off. Beau gives a wave of acceptance to Jester.

“Going once – going twice – sold! Three thousand dollars from Captain Tusktooth.”

“Do you have to call me that?” Fjord says, walking up to deposit his money. Jester just shrugs and shoves it back into her bedazzled pink briefcase.

Then he starts looking around the room for signs of weakness.

“Really,” he says out loud. “There’s only one person I can give this to.”

Veth glares at him as he wheels the cement mixer over to her. “I’ll get you for this, pretty boy.”

“I’m sure you will,” Fjord says, going back to his own station.

“Final sabotage for the round,” Jester announces, grabbing something from underneath her island and slamming it loudly onto the table. With a dramatic wave of her hand, she pulls back the cover to reveal a freezer of strawberry ice cream. “For this one, you have to substitute all the sugar in your baskets with this! Starting bids?”

“Three hundred dollars!”

.

“Hi, I’m Fjord Stone, I’m the owner of the restaurant chain Captain Tusktooth. We specialise in seafood.”

Fjord gives the camera a slightly uneasy smile. He keeps glancing around, like he’s expecting someone to jump up and scare him at any second.

The cameraman clears his throat. “Are you okay, sir?”

“What? Oh, yes, of course,” Fjord says. “I just heard that Veth – er, Chef Branatto – was also competing. I was wondering if she’s already here?”

Veth shoves aside the fabric background and jumps onto the back of Fjord’s chair, grabbing at his shoulders. “You bet I am.”

The camera cuts on Fjord’s startled scream.

.

“As you can see, halfway through and they’re doing remarkably well despite my – handicaps.” Jester snickers to herself and gestures to Fjord’s station, where he’s apparently attempting to mix the batter with his hook.

“And Veth is using that cement mixer to full advantage, managing – oh, hi, Yasha.”

Yasha sneaks up behind the camera and gives a small wave. “Jester, may I have some butter?”

“Of course,” Jester says. She goes into the pantry and comes out a few seconds later. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Yasha says, going back to her workstation. Although she hadn’t actually grabbed anything from the pantry in the initial sixty seconds, she’s managed to accumulate a veritable wealth of ingredients to the side – including, but not limited to: half of Caduceus’ eggs, some of Fjord’s icing sugar, and a tub of Beau’s ice cream.

“Where was I?” Jester says. “Oh! Yes – Veth is trying to make some very delicious-looking triple chocolate cupcakes –”

.

“Hi,” Caduceus says, waving. “I’m Caduceus Clay. You might know me from the SBS network’s show Grave Discoveries, where my family and I discuss the ups and downs of operating a small Church cemetery. Each episode, we delve into the history of Shady Creek Run and all the mysterious happenings around the area.”

“Food,” the cameraman says. He sounds utterly defeated. “Please. We are a food show.”

Caduceus looks delighted. “You are?” he says. “Jester didn’t really tell me what I was doing. This was only a social visit, you see.”

The cameraman’s forehead smack was audible even without a microphone.

.

“Alright, people – count down with me!”

Jester was jumping up and down in front of the cameras, waving her arms about wildly as she counted.

“Five!”

Caleb very calmly tried to put out the fire on his stove. Veth was right next to him, frantically trying to help. Neither of them was doing a very good job.

“Four!”

Fjord and Beau were racing to plate everything; Beau had apparently given up halfway through for the icing and was just drizzling her raw cupcake with melted ice cream. Fjord was attempting to bump her at every turn while also desperately smoothing down his own icing with his hook.

“Three!”

Yasha was sitting next to her already-plated cupcake, doodling flowers onto the plate in icing.

“Gee, that looks nice,” Caduceus says, leaning over.

Yasha turns to smile at him. “Thanks. Yours looks really good too.”

“It’s matcha.”

“Two!”

A hoard of crew members descends upon Caleb’s cooking station with fire extinguishers.

“One! Alright – time is up, challenge over, hands off the food.”

.

“Can everyone please extend the warmest welcome to your judge for today – Mollymauk Tealeaf!”

Mollymauk walks out from behind the stage, seeming undeterred at the lack of applause coming from the people lined up in front of him. In particular, Caleb and Veth look a little more charred for wear, while Beau has a split lip and Fjord is leaning precariously against the side of his table to hide his limp.

“You’re the judge?” Beau says, scowling.

“Beauregard, how lovely to see you once again. And in such pleasant circumstances, too!”

“I will punch you,” Beau says.

“Now, now, is that any way to greet an old friend? And also holder of your fate?”

Jester beams at them all. “Molly was backstage, so he doesn’t know what’s been going on.”

“I can guess,” Molly says with a careless flick of his fingers. “But I don’t really care. What’s on the menu today, Madame Lavorre?”

“Cupcakes!” Jester says. She turns around and grabs another one of her pre-prepared snacks to wave around Molly’s face.

“Excellent,” Mollymauk says. “Now, I’ve been told I only care about three things – does it look good, does it taste good, and is it actually a cupcake?”

Fjord and Beau exchange uneasy glances, and then seem to realise what they’re doing and look away.

.

“Hi, Molly,” Yasha says.

“Hello, Yasha. That’s some lovely artwork you have there.”

“Thanks.”

Molly picks up the cupcake and takes a bite. He tilts his head to the side, and then smiles.

“Ooh, strawberry. Very nice.”

“Mhm.”

.

Molly moves on.

“Cousin,” Caduceus says in greeting.

“Cousin,” Molly says. He picks up the cupcake. “Matcha! My favourite.”

“I know.”

Jester frowns at him. “No one was supposed to know who the judge was. Did you tell him, Molly?”

“No,” Molly says, crumbs flying out of his mouth.

“How did you know?” Jester demands, standing up onto her tiptoes to glare at him.

Caduceus just smiles.

.

“I’m not eating that,” Molly says, staring at the charred lump of coal settled innocuously in the middle of the white plate. Pieces of ash had started flaking off and were staining the sides.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Caleb says.

.

“Chef Brenatto,” Molly says, all teeth.

“Mollymauk Tealeaf,” Veth says, smile just as wide.

“I haven’t seen you since – when was it, again?”

“The hospital,” Veth says. “Scrambled eggs.”

“Ah, yes. Now, tell me about this – interpretation of yours.”

“It’s still technically a cake,” Veth says.

“Hmm.”

“It’s just a…pan…cake.”

“I see.”

.

“Beauregard! Such a wonderful surprise.”

“Fuck off,” Beau says, arms folded across her chest defensively.

“And what’s this…delightful creation of yours?”

“It’s a cupcake.”

Molly eyes the sludgy mess dubiously. “Are you sure?”

“Look, are you going to eat it or not?”

Molly picks it up and holds it to the light. It slides out of his fingers and lands back onto the plate with a squelch.

Beau glares at him. “You did that on purpose.”

“I did not –”

.

“Captain Tusktooth,” Molly says.

Fjord just glares at him, head held high. Then his shoulders slump and he gives a defeated wave across his monstrosity.

“Really? You have to call me that too?”

“Oh, but of course,” Molly says. He squints down at the cupcake and then reaches out to poke it. “I think this is more icing than cake.”

“Just how I like it,” Jester pipes up.

Fjord spares a brief second to smile fondly at her. He turns his attention back to Molly, who still hasn’t taken a bite.

“I don’t know how to pick this up without getting icing everywhere,” Molly says after a while. He tries to pinch at the top, but his fingers just slide right through.

“Hey, don’t ruin it!” Fjord protests.

Molly shrugs, using his fingers to scrape off most of the excess icing, and then pops the little circle of cake left remaining into his mouth. He chews thoughtfully for a few seconds, face serious.

Then he turns away.

“Excuse me,” Fjord says, outraged. “That’s all you have to say?”

Molly gives a careless wave of his hand and keeps walking.

.

“Caleb, you’re disqualified.”

“Yeah, okay,” Caleb says. He just looks tired. It takes him less than thirty seconds to stuff the money back into Jester’s hands and then run off to the side of the set.

“Don’t forget, we’re all still going out after this,” Jester calls after him. She waits a few seconds to see if he responds, and then gives an “eh” and turns back to Molly.

“And the other person leaving today is –” he pauses, grin wide.

Jester takes another bite of her cupcake.

“– Captain Tusktooth.”

“This is bullshit!” Beau bursts out loudly. “Just because you don’t like me – wait, I’m not being kicked out?”

“Thanks, Beau,” Fjord says sourly.

Beau looks slightly dazed. “I’m still competing?”

“I can kick you out if you really want me to,” Molly offers.

“No, no, that wasn’t what I –”

“See you for the afterparty, Jess,” Fjord says with a sigh.

Jester just grins at him, reaching over to swipe a speck of icing off his cheek. She watches him walk away fondly, and then pats Molly on the head and pushes him backstage.

“Congratulations on surviving the first round! Round two is just as much fun – I hope everyone likes ice cream!”

.