"Oops," Ben said as black vapor drifted from his pond scum soup.
It was Monday morning, and Ben was stuck in his least favorite class.
Cooking was boring, and Ben was terrible at it.
Winnie looked over from her workstation. "Ben, your soup is smoking."
"Yeah, I know."
She wrinkled her nose. "What did you put in it?"
Ben looked at all the jars on his counter.
He saw dried lizard toes, rat tails, and several other items.
He shrugged. "Honestly, I don't remember what I put in it."
Winnie burst out laughing, and Ben joined in.
The only good thing about Cooking class was that Winnie was in it.
Mr. Icky pointed one of his tentacles at them.
"What are you two laughing about?"
"Uh, nothing," Ben said.
Suddenly—Boom! Splat!
"Oh, man!" Mog cried.
Everyone turned to see what had happened.
Green soup covered Mog.
It dripped down his face and shirt, forming a puddle on the floor.
A zombie who was staggering by slipped and fell.
As Mog began to clean up the mess, the zombie just lay there.
"Is that zombie going to get up?" Ben asked.
"Eventually," Winnie said.
Mog gritted his teeth. "I hate cooking!"
"Now, now." Mr. Icky slid over to help.
"We all make mistakes."
"Poor Mog," Winnie whispered.
"Poor me," Ben said. His soup had stopped smoking.
Now it was making a strange humming sound.
"Ooh!" Winnie's eyes went wide.
"That sounds like the cute monster in the movie we saw last weekend."
Ben smiled. He and Winnie had gone on a double date with Mog and Deb.
They had seen a romantic monster movie.
Mog complained during the whole movie because there were no explosions.
But Ben kind of liked the movie.
He didn't tell Mog that though.
A three-eyed monster sprinkled something into her soup.
"That smells wonderful!" a four-eyed monster said.
"What did you put in it?"
"Oh, just some rotten fungus flakes," the three-eyed monster said.
Other monsters smiled as they stirred their soups.
The pleasant smell of dirt and rotten vegetables filled the room.
"Ugh," Ben mumbled.
"Everyone's soup looks fine except for mine. I wish this class were over."
"So," Winnie said without looking up.
She was skimming some dead leaves from her soup.
"Are there any plans for Saturday night?"
Ben shot a quick look at Winnie. "Um, I don't know. Why?"
"Uh, hello," Winnie said. "It's my birthday."
"Oh, really?" Ben ran a hand through his hair.
"I had no idea!
I guess we should plan something, right?"
Winnie gave Ben a suspicious look.
"Gaby asked me to go to Monster Mall on Saturday afternoon.
But that's weird because Gaby hates shopping.
So I started to think that maybe you're all planning a party."
She met Ben's eyes and stared at him.
Ben looked away and pretended to read the label on a spice jar.
Winnie could sometimes tell what someone was thinking.
"Maybe Gaby just wants to buy you a birthday present."
"Everyone, it's time to stop cooking!"
Mr. Icky said before Winnie could reply.
"We'll do a quick tasting before we clean up.
Who wants to let us taste their soup first?"
Several monsters raised their hands and claws.
Ben gazed down at his soup and frowned.
"Mine looks terrible," he thought.
"Nobody will want to taste it."
He quietly floated over to the trash can and dumped his soup.
After class Ben was at his locker.
Waldo poked his head out of a nearby classroom.
"Psst, Ben!" he whispered. "Come here!"
Ben went in, and Waldo closed the door behind him.
Gaby, Deb, Mog, and some other monsters were there.
"Quick meeting," Waldo said.
"We need to discuss Winnie's surprise party."
"She almost figured it out," Ben said.
"I pretended to not know about any party."
"That's good," Mog said. "Now it will be a real surprise!"
Waldo pushed his glasses up.
"Everyone knows what the plan is, right?"
Gaby nodded. "I'm taking Winnie to Monster Mall on Saturday afternoon.
We'll be back at her house by six o'clock."
Deb spoke up. "While you two are at the mall, we'll set up for the party in Winnie's house."
Everyone started discussing decorations and food.
But Ben wasn't paying much attention.
He was excited about Winnie's birthday.
However, there was one big problem: he didn't know what to get for her.
He'd thought about possible gifts for weeks, but so far he hadn't come up with any good ideas.
"I still have five days," he told himself.
"I'll find the perfect gift before the party."