Author's note: *cover art by BreiGrace on Twitter*

Enjoy! 

"You know what would be a great idea?"

     Patton smiled to himself. Although no one was near him, he continued mumbling ideas out loud. 

"We can have a little contest to see who's the best at making..." 

     He trailed off, looking around his room for inspiration. The ever-changing frame of pictures on his wall wasn't helping. Neither were recent posters of cute puppies...or a closet full of onesies giving him some sort of direction. There was a nightstand by his bed, which had an empty plate with cookie crumbs. 

"...cookies." 

     Patton's face lit up. 

"Oh, that would be so much fun! And Thomas could be the judge!" 

     He bounced up and down with delight. Without giving it a second thought, he bolted out of his room and sprinted down the mind palace hall. A red door with a painted golden crown on it caught his eye first. He could hear vocalization coming from the other side, probably indicating that his companion was singing a song stuck in Thomas' head. 

"Roman!" Patton knocked rapidly on the door. "I love your singing, but can we meet up with Thomas? It's important." 

     The singing abruptly stopped. A few moments later, the fancy door swung open and a familiar face peeked out. 

"What is it?" Roman peered his head out further and looked around the hall. "There's no danger to be seen...so what's important?" 

"Just come!" Patton took a few steps to the side and motioned for Princey to follow him. "It's a surprise!" 

     Raising an eyebrow, Roman stepped out of his room and trailed after Morality. They stopped at a dark blue door with tiny, silver complex equations carved into it. 

"Whatever your 'surprise' is, I don't think Logan would care to join." 

     Ignoring the little remark, Patton kept his smile and knocked excitedly. 

"Oohh, Loooogaaaannn!" Morality sang, "I have something to tell all of youuuuu!" 

     Not a second later, a professionally dressed man opened his door. A thick book covered half of his face but he spared a glance at the two. 

"Hello Patton. Hello Roman. What is the memo you want to spread?" 

     Patton opened his mouth to give the answer, but then thought better of it. 

"You'll see." He gently slid Logan's book out of his hands. "Put this away for now, kiddo." 

     The parental trait then proceeded to frizbee the object above Logan's head, where it went soaring into his room, and successfully landed on the carpet with a loud thud. 

"Careful!" Logan checked behind him, and shook a finger at Morality. "If that book had been projected a few centimeters to the right, it would've crashed into my table---which is where I'm making a pyramid out of cards." 

     Roman stifled a laugh. 

"You? Playing with toys?"

     Logan grumbled under his breath, stepped into the hall, and shut his door a little forcefully. 

"No," he explained, "building a unique architectural design using processed wood and precise calculations." 

"Playing with toys." Roman teased. 

     Logic gave him a stern look, then sighed and walked off saying, 

"Patton, you said that you needed everyone to talk to, so let's go get Virgil." 

     The trio fell silent as they followed Logan to a black door with painted stormy clouds located at the very end of the hall. They stopped at the same time and gave uncertain looks to each other. 

"Do we---" Roman pointed at the door, "---do we ask politely and get ready to be ignored by loud music?" 

     Logic shook his head. 

"Let Patton handle this one. He is, after all, the one responsible for gathering us all for...a memo." 

     Morality smiled wider. It was very tempting to blurt out his idea, but he needed to wait. He needed to get Virgil quick. 

"Yep!" Patton placed a firm grip on the doorknob and turned it sharply. "Better get him!" 

     Courage at the moment meant nothing to him as he swung the black door wide open and waltzed into Anxiety's dimly lit room. He was cautious to not land his eyes on the spider curtains. 

"What?" Called out a grumpy voice from somewhere. 

     Although he couldn't see much, Patton held out a hand at the void darkness looming in the far corner. There was less visible light in his room since their last group visit. 

"C'mere kiddo." 

     Nothing shifted, but Anxiety's voice dropped in volume. 

"Why?" 

"Well, there's something exciting I have to tell you! And Logan. And Roman, and Thoma---" 

     A hand placed itself on Patton's shoulder, startling him so much that he sprang into the air out of sheer confusion and terror. 

"Gah!" 

     Once back on the ground, he flipped on his cat hoodie to hide his face and shrunk back. 

"Woah there, it's me. Didn't mean to scare you, sorry." 

     Patton lifted the hoodie off his eyes and was greeted with Virgil's concerned face. 

"Oh, hi!" Morality relaxed his shoulders. "You've got to come with us, ther---" 

     Virgil held up a hand. 

"I heard, I'm coming." 

"Yay! C'mon!" 

     He tugged at the sleeve of Anxiety's jacket, leading him out the door in a hurry. All four personas crowded together in the middle of the hallway. No one except Patton knew exactly why they were preparing for a gathering, and it crept a little uneasiness onto them. 

"So--" Logan cleared his throat and pushed up the rim of his glasses, "--Thomas is the one who calls us to the outside world. How do we bring ourselves there without his conscience mind guiding us?" 

"Easy!" Roman piped up. "You think and wish with all your being to be there with him. And if you think hard enough, it works." 

"Wait, you've done it before?" 

     As an answer, Princey shut his eyes tight and snapped his fingers. And just like that, he was gone. 

"Oh." 

     Anxiety merely blinked, then disappeared in a flash. Patton stood still, waited a moment, and vanished from sight. The intellectual side was left alone in a matter of seconds. 

"Well then," Logan rubbed his forehead, "...guess it's my turn." 

     He relaxed his shoulders, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath in. He intensely concentrated on the sole thought of being right next to---

"Ayy! Everyone's here!" Thomas' voice rang out. 

     Logic snapped his eyes open. Sure enough, he had traveled from the mind to the outside world. Specifically, to Thomas' living room. Everyone had their full attention to Patton, who must've began rambling before he arrived. 

"...and I know it'll be fun because we'll be doing something that will be a reward for us when we finish and it and be a competition. Also, Thomas gets to be the judge---" 

"Uhh..." Logan glanced at his companions, "I need an explanation for our sudden gathering. Why are we here?"

     Roman cast a boastful look in his direction, 

"We're having a baking competition, nerd. And I, the most talented of you all, am going to win!" 

"I would have to disagree." Logic fired back. 

"Now, now." Thomas held up a hand to signal a stop to the arguing. "I think having a baking contest is a great idea, but we won't get anything done if we don't get started." 

     Virgil, who was slouched by the stairs, sat up straight at those words. 

"Wait, we're actually doing this?" 

"Yeah!" 

     Anxiety groaned and put his head down on a stair step. 

"No worries, my fair royalties!" Roman snapped his fingers and 4 identical chef hats appeared bundled up in his arms. "You never know what you're capable of." 

     He chucked a hat to Logan, who was caught off guard and stumbled to catch it. Then he pitched another one at Patton. Morality managed to seize it with one hand. Roman tossed one at Virgil, where it landed next to the staircase. The fanciful trait placed the last hat on top of his head and gave a thumbs up to Thomas. 

"Let's-get-a-baking! To the kitchen!" 

"To the kitchen!" Thomas repeated, and lead the group to said location. All except the anxious trait followed him, who hadn't budged from his spot since the official contest announcement. Luckily, the judge noticed. 

"Come here, Virgil." Thomas called, "Everyone is in on this...and everyone gets free treats."

     Anxiety stayed in his position for a little while longer, then slowly got up and trudged across the living room with a scowl. 

     When all the aspects of his personality were at the dining table, Thomas rummaged around the cupboards and pantry for essential tools and ingredients. As he made trips to collect flour and such, he said, 

"Right, so as the judge I should establish some rules." 

"Remember that we're making cookies, preferably chocolate chip." Morality insisted. 

"Yes Patton, I didn't forget. We'll each make a batch of cookies. Like, a dozen? Or is that too much?" 

     Virgil propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fist. A frown remained on his face as he spoke, 

"This is all going to be a waste. Whatever we make will most likely be inedible since, like you, we don't know how to cook." 

"We may not be the best at cooking, but we are baking." Logan corrected, "There is a difference. Cooking is more of an art, baking is more of a science." 

     Anxiety looked away, 

"Whatever." 

"Guys?" Patton called out, "I found a recipe book!" 

     A thick, aged book from the back of the kitchen drawers was fished out. Morality placed it on the table and flipped through the pages. Each recipe had a picture or two to, so he hoped that the beloved image of freshly baked cookies popped up sometime soon. 

     It did. 

"Goody!" Patton left the book open at the correct section. "Here it is." 

"Nice work buddy. Ok, you guys have one hour to make the pastries. All the ingredients are in front of you. And..." Thomas glanced at the wall clock, "...go!" 

     With that, the judge left the kitchen. Logan took charge. 

"Let's get started then. I'll work at the dining table. Patton can be at the kitchen counter, Virgil near the oven, and Roman...take the table in the living room." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Roman) 

"3/4 cups of sugar."

     That's what he could remember from the instructions. The recipe book was left wide open with Logan, and anyone was free to come by to check it. All the prince aspect had before him was a medium sized bowl, a whisk to mix things with, and a random measuring cup. Any and all ingredients were left with Patton, at the kitchen counter. 

     Since they all agreed to take turns sharing things, Roman thought that it wouldn't be a problem to take the whole bag of sugar and figure out things from there. The persona strode over to the kitchen area while casually whistling a Disney tune. Morality had his back turned and paid no attention to Princey swiping a bag off his work-space. Even Logan was in deep concentration, which was the perfect time to steal a glance at the book without bothering him. 

     Content with his actions, Roman walked back to the living room and set down the sugar on his own table. 

"Hmm-hm-hmm-hm-hm-hm...whistle while you work." 

     His Disney anthem continued as he scooped 3 cups of the first ingredient into the mixing bowl. 

"Put on that grin and start right in to whistle long and loud..." 

     He knew that the next step was to put in 3/4 cups of brown sugar, but Roman put in 3 more cups...of white sugar. Really, he didn't see any difference. After all, weren't cookies supposed to be sweet? 

"Just hum a merry tune..."

     He went off to fetch a stick of butter, but was it one cup or half a cup? When the fanciful trait entered the kitchen, he lowered his voice to a whisper. 

"...just do your best and then take a rest and sing yourself a song." 

     Guessing that the recipe called for half a cup, Roman reached for a dull knife laying on the counter and cut off a chunk from a stick of butter. Hopefully, Patton wouldn't mind. Princey also hoped that he correctly estimated the amount of butter he needed. 

     Roman waltzed to his work-space with the next delicate ingredient in his hand. At his table, he sang a bit louder, 

"When there's too much to do, don't let it bother you..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Logan)

"1 teaspoon of vanilla, 1 egg, 2 and 1/4 cups of flour, 1 teaspoon of baking soda..." 

     The logical persona reached for his measuring tools. Though he didn't want to admit his limited knowledge on baking, Logan did remember reading about putting in the dry ingredients first. Sugar technically counted as a wet ingredient since it had to be mixed with water, so he skipped that step and planned to add it later. The vanilla and egg would have to wait, too. 

     He grabbed a 4/4 cup and poured the necessary amount of flour into his mixing bowl. The teacher trait got a hold of a different, smaller cup. 

"One-fourth left to go---wait." 

     On the handle of the object, the numbers 1/3 showed. 

"Hmm." 

     One-third. He needed one-fourth. The only other measuring instrument he had was a teaspoon. Surely, since no other cups were around, he could use a little math to approximate the right amount. 

"Conversions." 

     Conversions could help. 

"Let's see." Logan drummed his fingers on the dinning table. "One tablespoon equals 4 teaspoons...no, that's the other way around. Or is it 3? One teaspoon is equivalent to 3 tablespoons." 

     He racked his brain for the rest of the conversions, but it was like trying to clear up a foggy memory. 

"A whole cup is the same as 16 or 18 tablespoons. And by that, 4 tablespoons is one-fourth. Or 4.5? So, times 3, 12 table---no---TEA. Teaspoons. I'll need 12 teaspoons...or would that be 13.5?" 

     Soon enough the logical trait was chanting numbers and phrases. Even as a headache formed, Logan tried to channel all his brain power to remember the right numbers. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Patton)

     A couple of trips back and fourth between the recipe book and the kitchen table was a bit more tiring than he thought. Luckily, Patton's excitement drowned out most of the exhaustion. He was almost done. Next, he required a double-check on his ingredients. 

"Um, I definitely put in the chocolate chips, eggs, flour, baking soda, salt...and sugar? Did I put in the sugar?"

     He scanned around his table. A single bag labeled 'White Sugar' was slouched against a stack of clean plates. 

"There you are." Patton clasped the top of the bag and dragged it towards him. "Funny, I could've sworn there were 2 bags earlier." 

     Figuring someone else took the other one, he brushed off the mild concern. Morality continued to work, he opened up the sugary container but then stopped. 

"Tsk. How much do I need again?" 

     The thought of guessing an amount almost seemed relevant, but he wanted the best for Thomas. Doubting and assuming wasn't going to cut it. The right amount was absolutely necessary. 

     Morality swooped up a cup, turned around, and paced to the dining table. A fellow companion was busy taking several quantities of flour with a tiny spoon. He also happened to be in the way of the book, preventing Patton from seeing anything. 

"Hey Logan? How much sugar are we supposed to put in?"

"24.458 of table-teaspoons means one-sixth of a cup!" Logic blurted out. 

     There was a pause. 

"Is everything okay?" 

     The intellectual trait turned around, revealing crooked glasses and messy hair. He fixed his posture and straightened out his necktie. 

"You...uh," Logan tapped his fingers rapidly on the table. "You wouldn't happen to have a one-fourth measuring cup, would you?" 

     Patton looked at the cup in his hands, 

"Oh hey! I do! Wanna borrow it?" 

     Logan reached for the object as if he were a kid grabbing candy, but then he stopped himself. 

"Um, yes. Please." 

     Morality gladly handed him the measuring tool, to which Logic took in a serene manner and proceeded to work. As soon as the logical side finished putting flour in his mixing bowl, he gave the cup back to his friend. 

"By the way, you will require precisely three-fourths of a cup." 

"Thanks!" 

     Patton skipped back to the kitchen and resumed the baking process. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Virgil)

     The anxious persona squinted at a blurry image on his phone. 

"Heat...oven to...375 degrees Fahrenheit." 

     Privileged to being right next to the oven and apparently the first one to come this far, Anxiety could bake his cookies in peace. He was never particularly fond of cooking. But baking? 

     That was something he loved doing every now and then. Baking when no one was around, when he felt like it, and always in secret. Over the years, he perfected his favorite recipes and got the hang of the 'science' behind it. 

     With his deep appreciation for the arts of baking, he had a deep fear of anyone else finding out about his hidden hobby. Just the thought of possible nagging for a batch of pastries, the unspoken demand for delicious perfection, and a million questions about his talent made him a bit sick in the stomach. There was no point in taking requests if all it ended up doing was making him worry about every little thing and every little step. 

     So he did everything wrong. 

     He put in the wrong amount of butter, not enough salt, too much flour, and so forth. At least that way, his expectations would be low. He'd lose and he wouldn't mind. The proportions were kept in check, though. No one needed to get food poisoning. He used a wooden spoon to stir the dough and----

"Oh, right. Heat the oven." 

     Anxiety turned on the oven and set it to the correct temperature. As he let it warm up, he looked back at his phone for further instructions. 

"Drop dough by rounded...tablespoons aboouuut...2 inches apart onto ungreased cookie sheet." 

     Good, there was a rectangular pan next to him. He scooped up bits of the dough, rolled them into small, imperfect spheres, then placed them on top of the sheet. Virgil checked the picture again, 

"Bake for 8 to 10 minutes or until light brown." 

     He slowly opened the oven door, used a kitchen towel to grip the sheet, and slid it inside. 

"Disappointment, here we go." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

/45 minutes later/ 

"You guys, I am SO excited about this." 

     The four personas had finally finished their own batch and previously placed them onto the dining table. There were four identical plates covered with an upside down, large bowl. Each of the sides knew which one was theirs, but Thomas didn't. 

"So exciting!" Thomas' voice rose up a notch. 

     Logan fixed the frame of his glasses, 

"We can tell." 

     The human collected himself and toned down his enthusiastic demeanor. He went on to talk formally, 

"Okay, so as the judge, I want to thank all of you for participating. Your work is well paid off. And a special thanks to Patton for coming up with this idea!" 

"You're welcome!" 

"This is a friendly competition, ok? We're all winners here...but I'm gonna see who made the best cookies!" 

     Virgil rolled his eyes. 

"Let's begin with--" Thomas scanned the mystery containers and then pointed to the one at the far left, "--that one!" 

     Roman immediately stiffened up. The judge lifted up the bowl to reveal a small pile of perfect, crisp cookies. 

"Woah!" Thomas had his gaze fixed on the sweets. "They look soooo good." 

     He rubbed his hands together and plucked a baked good off the plate. 

"It feels and smells just right." 

     A confident smile was plastered on Roman's face. 

     Thomas brought the cookie to his mouth and took a large bite out of it. Right away, his eyes grew wide and his cheeks puffed out to avoid making a retching sound. 

     The sides froze and glanced at each other. Before any of them could react, Thomas darted to the kitchen trash can and spit out the chow. 

"Is--uh," Patton winced at the sight of his host in a gagging state. "You know what, I'll get you something." 

     In a matter of seconds, the parental trait was by Thomas' side with a glass of fresh water. The judge thanked him and gulped down the refreshment. As Patton returned to the others by the dining table, Thomas coughed repeatedly and made his way back. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath in. 

"That..." he sighed, "I'm gonna have to give that negative 5 stars." 

     Princey put his head down in shame. 

"It had an awful, awful taste. I couldn't even swallow it because it was too bitter and dry."  

"I don't understand!" Roman put his hands up in defeat. "I put in exactly what the recipe called for." 

     His voice grew smaller near the end of his statement, almost embarrassed at the realization he told a tall tale. 

"Actually," The fanciful side avoided eye contact with anyone, "I may have put in a teensy too much sugar." 

"Sugar?! That was 110% salt!"

"Excuse you, I got a bag full of sweetness from Patton's little stockpile of ingredients!" 

    Morality patted Roman's shoulder, 

"Actually, I had a bag of sugar and a bag of salt....they kinda looked the same." 

     The creative trait stared at his batch of pastries in utter disbelief. After a few moments of respectful silence for his failed work of art, he swooped up his plate, dumped the cookies in a nearby trash can, left his dish at the sink, and came back to the group. 

"Next time I will triumph over all of you." He said. 

Thomas cast a sympathetic look at his fanciful side, "Sorry buddy. Let's continue."

     The judge picked up the next bowl to uncover yet another small stack of scrumptious cookies. These had a lot of chocolate chips. Like, a lot. But besides that...

"These look a little flat, not to mention a little too dark." 

     None of the sides gave any indication that the pastries Thomas was critiquing was theirs. Roman was ruled out. Logic must've made the cookies perfect by following every step the way it was told. Patton was the one who came up with the baking idea, there was no way he would miss the opportunity to shine. Could these be Virgil's?

"Well," Thomas hesitantly reached for one and slowly brought it to his mouth, "here comes the taste test." 

     He took a small bite. The cookie was definitely overcooked. There was too much of a crunch and a burned edge. It wasn't too bad that he wanted to spit it out, so he kept munching and swallowed. Thomas returned the baked good on the dish. 

"I'll have to give that 2 out of 5 stars." 

     Morality rubbed the back of his neck, 

"Oh boy, those really didn't turn out the way I expected them to." 

"Patton? These were yours?" 

"Yeah, sorry." 

"No," Thomas said, "Don't be sorry. You did your best and that's what matters." 

"Thanks kiddo." 

     The host gave him an encouraging smile and moved on. A different plate was uncovered to reveal---

"Why is there a bowl of uncooked cookie dough in here?" 

     A small cough rang out in embarrassment. Logan picked at his nails and shrugged nonchalantly, 

"I was too preoccupied with getting the exact measurements to attain the goal of finishing." 

     Thomas raised an eyebrow, "Really? I thought you would make them perfect." 

"In my defense, perfection comes in different forms in science. Such as this---a perfect clump of uncooked dough." 

     The judge dismissed the subject with a wave of a hand, 

"Yes, but it's not finished. I'll give it no stars." 

     Logic solemnly nodded, "That's understandable." 

"So this last one must belong to Virgil!" 

     The anxious persona maintained an expressionless face and slipped on his hoodie. 

     Patton clapped his hands, 

"Oh! Yours must be outstanding!" 

     Virgil scoffed, 

"Yeah right. Try saying that when I sore lower than Mr. Melodramatic Majesty." 

"I will physically fight you." 

"Calm down you guys," Thomas lifted the bowl off the final plate, "let's try to maintain good vibes in this competition, okay?" 

"Sure thing!" 

"Whatever." 

     As the judge reached for a cookie, Anxiety's heartbeat quickened. He was waiting for the moment his host's face would scrunch up in disgust. For the moment Thomas would try to smile at him and say that at least he tried. For the moment he would say--- 

"Hey, this is pretty good." 

     Thomas interrupted the side's train of thought with a few enthusiastic words and a satisfied grin. 

"I had no idea you bake so well, Verge!" He finished up his piece and went for seconds. "The rest of you have got to try this!" 

     Virgil could only watch in stunned silence as the others obeyed the judge. Patton gladly helped himself to a few pastries, Logan tried one and gave a thumbs up, and Roman nibbled one of the cookies out of curiosity before giving in and taking bigger bites. 

"See Verge? I knew you would make them scrumptious!" 

"I do have to say that you made them exquisite, well done Virgil." 

"Mmm-hmm, our emo lord out shined us all." 

"5 out of 5 stars! We have a winner!"

     Anxiety glanced back and forth between his plate and everyone else, trying to process what just happened. 

"B-b-b-but..." 

     Everything came out right? That was impossible. The anxious aspect had made sure that his cookies would turn out to be a sad failure. Not the other way around. 

"But I..."

"What's wrong?" Logic spoke, "Are you not happy with the results?"

     As soon as the words left his mouth, everyone burst out phrases of encouragement at him, thinking that Virgil needed a little positivity. They spoke over each other and in a matter of seconds, it became impossible to distinguish who was saying what or what was even being said. Sounds distorted, and he found himself clutching the edge of his jacket. He couldn't take it any longer. 

"THEY WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE GOOD!" 

     Silence reined down on the group. Confusion followed. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Wait, you weren't trying at all? How'd you score better than me?!"

"Now now, don't tell me you tried pranking us with food poisoning." 

"Patton, he would never hurt us." 

"Guys." Anxiety felt the concerned gazes coming from his companions, tension built in his hunched posture. "I---I'm actually..." 

     He swallowed a lump in his throat and tried to smooth out his voice so it wouldn't quake. 

"I'm actually an experienced baker. The thing is, I didn't want you guys to know that. If you did, there's no denying that you'd ask me to bake things. Relying on me to make something special--or anything--would put me under pressure. I don't want that kind of stress to sit on my shoulders everyday." 

     The rest were eerily quiet, until one of them spoke up. 

"Virgil," Thomas looked at said side with full honesty shinning in his eyes, "we would never push you past a breaking point. I understand where you're coming from, but just know that no one here is going to put you on the edge like that."

"The kiddo's right." Patton stepped forward. "We'll respect your boundaries and be amazed by your incredible talent!" 

Logan shrugged, "Anytime you feel overwhelmed while baking, we'll be glad to help out." 

     The fanciful trait nodded in agreement,

"Yeah, but there's still one thing I don't get. If you never intended for the cookies to turn out quite nice, then why did  they?"

     Virgil threw his hands up in frustration, "I don't know either, man! It's like karma for me." 

"Unless..." Logan pushed up the rim of his glasses, deep in thought, "Unless you countered the imbalance right away." 

"What?" 

"Such as adding too much butter---it would've made the treats flat and greasy. But adding half a cup of extra flour fixes it, in a way." 

     Anxiety's eyes widened at Logic's explanation. 

"I think I did that." 

     Thomas clasped his hands together, and took in a calm, deep breath. 

"Starting this competition, I had no idea what the prize for the winner was going to be." 

"But I didn't--" 

"Ah-ah-ah, Virgil, you deserve it." 

     Thomas leaned towards Roman and whispered something in his ear. The others witnessed Princey's face go from confused to ecstatic. Morality, out of hearing range from the duo, was equally thrilled. 

"Ooh!" The parental aspect bounced slightly on his toes, "I think I know what it is! Pizza!"

     Roman tried to hide a mischievous grin as he said to Virgil, 

"Ok, ok. Do me a favor and close your eyes." 

     The anxious persona crossed his arms, "What if I don't want to?" 

"Dude, c'mon. It's nothing bad."

     Virgil, after a moment of consideration, shut his eyes tight. He hear a soft swoosh, indicating that Roman had summoned an object (living or not) from the depths of Thomas' creativity and imagination.

"Now, open them!" 

     He did, and noticed a crown placed on Roman's outstretched hands. Virgil slowly took the head adornment and drew in an awestruck breath. 

     Roman didn't just summon the typical, radiant golden crown that kings wore in fairly tales. He gave him something that was more towards Anxiety's liking: it was jet black, spiked to resemble a rising spiderweb, and the crest held a deep purple amethyst in the shape of a cloud with a lightning bolt. The whole thing was a magnificent sight to him. 

     Virgil allowed a rare smile to take over him. He placed the crown on top of his head, where it fit perfectly and comfortably. 

"Thank you." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Bonus Scene)

     Hours after their little friendly competition, Patton sat slouched on a sofa in the shape and color scheme of a magical lamp. He was in the mind palace's main lobby: a place that had something for every side. There was a puzzle table for Logan, a large (and fancy) preforming stage for Roman, Disney themed furniture for Patton, and a music booth for Virgil. 

     Morality was busy thinking of random things, as usual. It brought him to recall the bake off, as well as a thought he hadn't shared before. He sat up straight and looked over his shoulder. Logan was at his puzzle table, scribbling away at more than one paper. It was nice that he was here, since it gave Patton the opportunity to chat. 

"Hey Logan?" 

     The logical trait didn't glance up from his spot. 

"Yes?" 

"If we're aspects and figurative representations from Thomas' imagination, then how were we able to interact with the real world objects? And why was Thomas able to taste what we made---or was that his imagination, too?" 

     Silence.

"Patton, it's best if we don't question the...logic...that goes around when we're with Thomas." 

End.