A/N: Sorry this is late, don’t forget to check out Tim
Prompt: “Where we’re going, we don’t need recipes”
Word Limit: 400 words
Taylor loved food, unfortunately Taylor did not excel at cooking and would constantly be checking the recipe to see where he had gone wrong. It wasn’t like Taylor was horrendous at cooking; it was just that he preferred doing other things. Of course those other things usually involved eating and cooking his own meals was cheaper than going somewhere, and so Taylor had acquired a large range of recipe books.
As it were Taylor’s life was about to change, unbelievable so. It commenced on a misty Tuesday. A man with a big top hat arrived at Taylor’s door and rang the bell twice.
Taylor was in the kitchen, bemoaning his terrible luck as the soufflé he’d been trying to make deflated in front of his eyes. Nobody ever visited Taylor, and if they did they certainly never rang the doorbell. Dejected from another culinary failure Taylor dragged himself to the front door.
Upon the opening of the door the top hat man smiled, tilting the hat up he revealed his face to Taylor. The moustache bothered Taylor, he didn’t like moustaches. He fixed the stranger with a scrutinising look, mainly exhibiting his dislike of the moustache by glaring at the man’s upper lip. The stranger’s smile widened.
“Taylor my boy, how are you?”
Eyes still fixed on the moustache Taylor replied.
“Fine thank you, now please tell me who exactly you are and what you are doing here.”
“I’m your uncle Frederick of course, Taylor my boy. Didn’t you get my letter? I’m here to take you home.”
Taylor eyed the moustache with doubt, as far as he knew he had no home other than his apartment and no family that were alive. With his mother’s death last fall all of his relatives were gone, to his knowledge. And as for a letter, he didn’t really bother checking his mail unless it was a bill because those were important.
“I don’t read letters, and I don’t have any living family. Now good day sir.”
He slammed the door in the stranger’s face and then promptly locked it. Resolutely he returned to the kitchen to start on another recipe.
“Now Taylor, my boy, that wasn’t very nice. Come along we must be getting you home.”
Taylor practically jumped from the sudden voice, he turned around and sure enough the moustache was there. Now please note it was not the strange man behind Taylor but simply his moustache. And if a moustache had eyes it would have been staring at the recipe book in Taylor’s hand.
“Best put that book down lad. Where we’re going, we don’t need recipes.”
Taylor shakily put the book down, and that’s when all of a sudden the moustache jumped onto him and the floor seemed to slip away.
Word count: 464 words